Take A Ride On The Wild Side
by Retro Soul
Summary: On a road trip to California, Ponyboy, Johnny and Sodapop couldn't be more excited but their trip takes an unexpected turn when they pick up a hitch hiker and things go terribly wrong.
1. California, baby!

_**On a road trip to California, Ponyboy, Johnny and Sodapop couldn't be more excited but their trip takes an unexpected turn when they pick up a hitch hiker and things go terribly wrong.**_

"C'mon, Pony! Let's go!" Soda's voice shouted from the car.

"Wait a minute, willya?" I called back. This was one of the most exciting moments of my life. After much begging, me and Soda finally persuaded Darry into letting us take a road trip to California. California! I could barely believe it when Darry said we could go. Just think, me, Ponyboy Curtis from lonely Tulsa going to California! We got Johnny to come along too. Not that I didn't enjoy spending time alone with my brother, it's just two is a couple but three is company! The more the merrier! And plus, I don't know how Johnny would survive if I was gone for a whole month. It seemed like a dream come true. I barely believed we were even going until this moment. This was the moment when it all started coming to life.

Darry gave me a tight hug, squeezing the living daylights out of me and setting me back down. "You stay out of trouble, ok?" he warned, pointing a finger at me.

"Don't worry, Darry, I will" I assured him and offered him a smile. He took the smile and offered one back to me. I could see he was tearing up so I give him a light punch in the arm. "We'll be ok" I said.

"I just don't know what I'm going to do around here without you and Soda for a whole month" he sighed, looking away from me, I don't think he wanted me to see his tears.

"Don't worry, man, you got us!" Two-Bit cheered from the couch. Darry rolled his eyes.

"Heaven help me" he muttered, giving me one last hug. Soda and Johnny, who were waiting in the car, sounded the horn and I didn't want them getting impatient.

Jumping into the car that Dally so generously lent us, I let out a holler. "California here I come!"

"Get in here, you goof" Soda laughed and started the engine with a roar. Dally had gotten a car from Buck Merril, his acquaintance - never would I say friend. I'm not even too sure they're acquaintances- and lent it to us. I can bet you Buck didn't have a clue.

"One scratch on that car and I'll skin you!" Dally had threatened us. We would've taken the truck but Darry needed it for work.

The sound of the roaring car made my heart skip, made my stomach flop, I was ready for an adventure. Part of me was still bewildered at the fact that three home stuck boys from Tulsa were heading for California. We'd stroll along the Hollywood Walk Of Fame and we'd go through all the theatres and studios. We could lye in the pools and look up at the palm trees. Oh God, the palm trees. I had never seen a palm tree before. Now you're probably wondering how we ever got the dough for such a trip. Well, my friend, I will tell you.

At first, me and Johnny had this wild idea that we should go to California. Like most of our other ideas, we were shot down and told: Darry'd never let me go and we'd never find the money. Ha, we showed them.

It was only but 6 days later when Johnny found someone's wallet while we were at the drive in. Now, I know it wasn't the right thing to do and Johnny felt real terrible too but we kept the wallet. Before you judge us, I'd like to inform you that there was no ID in the wallet and no one claimed it when we called out for the owner.

Ok, maybe we just looked around for anyone who looked like they had lost something but you have no idea how much we wanted to go to California.

Soda cranked up the radio real loud and we went roaring down the road. We were all happy-go-lucky. Even Johnny. I was glad to see a smile on his face. He sat in the backseat while me and Soda took the front seats. I turned around, slinging my arm over my car seat and flashed him a big toothy grin. "California, baby!" I shouted and felt the excitement rush over me.

Hours past and somehow the excitement died down. Johnny fell asleep in the backseat, his heavy breathing is all that filled the air. I tried getting Soda to talk but he'd just mutter in response.

"This is gonna be real fun, huh Soda?"

"Yep"

"Are you excited?"

"Yeah"

"We gotta stay out of trouble or Darry will kill us"

"I know"

Finally I got tired of his one-liner remarks so I turned the radio on again, in hopes of finding a companion in the music.

The night dragged on as the power of sleep washed over me. I rested my head against the cold window, the rain outside whipped at the car and pounded down on the roof. Johnny Ace's _Pledging My Love _played softly in the background as our car trudged along on the dusty roads of Arizona, the tall mountains staring down at us.

"Would you change the station, Pony? This music's putting me to sleep" Soda complained. _Now you talk to me _I thought, bitterly. Ignoring him, I just stared absentmindedly out the window, trying to see something through the pouring rain. I slowly drifted off to sleep, listening to Johnny Ace's soothing voice.

I was jolted awake by the alarming sound of the car horn, the swivelling of our vehicle, the screeching of the tires and Soda yelling "Glory to God!".

"What? What?" I murmured, still waking up. Soda slapped the off button on the stereo.

"What's wrong with you, are you trying to kill us?" Johnny exclaimed from the back seat. I was still in the dark about what had happened.

"Can someone please tell me what happened?" I asked, getting upset.

"I fell asleep at the wheel and almost ran into that truck. Alright?" Soda snapped. I fell silent, Soda had never snapped at me before. Heat rushed to my face and I felt just so humiliated. You know that feeling when your nose gets all misty and your eyes start to sting? That's how I felt and let me tell you, my friend, it doesn't make you feel so hot. We sat in utter silence as the car ran reluctantly around the Rocky Mountains and through the beating rain. Staring out the window once again, I spotted a large blob-like figure standing in the distance at the side of the road. I wanted to ask what it was but the words just sat in my throat, not escaping through my mouth. Suddenly, I realized that the blob was a human - a hitcher.

"Hey, pull over!" I said out loud, forgetting the three of us were in some sort of unofficial silent contest.

"Why?" Soda grumbled. It was time for him to give up the attitude. "C'mon, lets pick up this guy. We could have a big conversation or something! Come on, Sodapop!" I pleaded, a smile on my face. He eventually gave into my impish pleas and smiled back, pulling the car over.

"Are you guys sure about this? I've heard about hitch hikers who are murderers" a timid Johnny said from the back.

"Relax, Johnny. This guys isn't a killer" I brushed him off as I put my feet up on the dash board. Dally's words about getting a scratch on the car echoed in my head but I ignored them. He wouldn't care if I got a little dirt on the dash.

"Easy for you to say, you aren't the guy who's sitting back here with him" he muttered.

"Y'know, Johnny's got a point" Soda hesitated but before he could say anymore, the guy was knocking at the window, a loud _thump, thump, thump. _I peered out the window, the poor guy, he was soaked. Remorse came over me, as I jumped in the back with Johnny and opened the car door.

"Our mother told us never to do this" I said, smiling, not sure if I was making a joke or not. It was true though. I remembered her words, clear and crisp that one time Darry went on a road trip, himself. _"Stay safe, honey and no matter what, don't pick up any hitch hikers. Its not safe". _

The man said nothing but sat there, shivering. Man, he looked so cold, even I got a little drafty. I could see Soda's twinkling brown eyes looking back in the car mirror, wanting to see what this guy looked like. The man sat hunched over, seeming to be swallowed by his drenched, blue jacket. Not the friendly type, I could tell but the whole reason to pick him up was to start a conversation and keep Soda awake.

I pasted a grin on my face and extended a hand towards him. "My name's Ponyboy Curtis" I said with a friendly tone. The man's eyes were cast my way as he took his hood off to reveal his face. Even at night, the moon light shone in and reflected off his face. He had wispy strawberry blonde hair that was plastered to his forehead from the pounding rain and his eyes were a very light brown. His face seemed long and his cheek bones were high.

He took my hand and gave it a tight shake. He opened his mouth and said "Rick Judgar".


	2. Picking up danger

His voice was a low register and it was smooth. He didn't have to say much for you to notice that he was soft spoken and cool.

After shaking my hand, he went back to his previous position: hunched over and swallowed by his coat. His head slightly turned both ways as if he was checking out the interior of the car.

"I'm getting your car wet." he said in his low, smooth voice as if an apology was hidden in his words. Soda laughed out loud.

"Oh, this isn't our car. It belongs to a friend of ours." Soda said lightly as his thumbs taped on the rim of the steering wheel. Rick's face lightened from its hard and reserved features and a small smile crept across his face. Some would say he was handsome. He seemed to be around the age of 40 yet his eyes told a different tale. Either way, he was still more attractive than most, even if he was an older man.

Soda's eyes would appear over and over in the car mirror, checking up on me and Johnny. We had expected a more out going person. My hopes of a big conversation were slowly dwindling. Soda seemed to notice that too.

"Do want me to drop you off somewhere?" he finally asked after many suspicious glances to the back. Rick stayed silent, not answering his question but simply wiped his wet face with the back of his hand.

"Mind if I smoke?" is all he asked. The fact that he wouldn't tell us where he was going was sceptical. While this man was soft spoken and evidently good-looking, he was turning out to be a sketchy character. I eyed Rick as Johnny and Sodapop were doing as well. Despite his efforts to wipe his face, he was still soaked was dripping wet all over the car. I kept my eyes locked on his seemingly long face, should he try to pull something, I wanted to be aware. The water dripped from his face, and like a faucet, the water dribbled down from the tip his nose. I let out a small chuckle.

"So, are you gonna tell us where you're going?" I pressed, since he wouldn't reply to Soda's question. Although, my tone was warmer than Soda's and I didn't let on that I was distrustful of him. I gave him a smile as well, you cant say no to a smile, can you?

He opened his mouth and I really thought he was going to answer me - that I had won the smooth talker over with my charm. But his mouth realised nothing and received nothing. Except for his cigarette, which stuck to the wetness of his lips. After lighting up, calmly and smoothly, he finally said "Sure." but did not release his destination.

We sat in uncomfortable silence again, the tables had turned. Instead of us keeping the watchful eye on him, Rick was now eyeing us. Like a predator eyes his prey? I shivered at the very thought of it.

"What are you looking at me like that for?" I grilled, my voice was not as welcoming as it was before, this guy was turning out to be creep. I tried to avoid his glare and stared past Johnny's head and out the window again. Johnny looked back at me, his black hair had fallen down into his eyes. I tried to give him a comforting smile but something outside caught my attention. A car was pulled over at the side of the road, not to far ahead of us. Soda's foot slowly lifted off the gas as we all took a glance at the ceased car.

With one swift motion, Rick reached forward and grasped Soda's leg, pushing his foot down on the gas again. The car wisped by and Soda started shouting.

"Hey! What'd you do that for?" he shouted and Rick and pulled his hand off of his leg. Rick said nothing but sat back and puffed away at his cigarette. It took a lot to make Sodapop yell, this guy was creeping us all out. He suddenly had an eerie quality to him. The foul smoke from the man's cigarette rose up and seeped through my nose as he sat silent.

"I asked you a question." Soda pressed, looking back at him with daggers in his eyes. Rick just smiled smugly and let the cigarette dangle from his lips.

"Why? Where you scared?" he mused with Soda. Soda's eyes widened as he looked back at the road.

Now, I was really worried. I looked back at Johnny and he had shoved himself as far into the corner as he possibly could. Soda seemingly read our minds and he abruptly pulled the car at stop. The vehicle sat motionless at the side of the dusty road, the rain hadn't let up a single bit.

"I think you better get out now." he stated as he looked back at Rick. "The ride is over." he urged as he stared intently at the handsome man who's looks were now deceiving. Rick's eyes moved from Soda then to me and Johnny. He slowly opened his door, some of the rain coming into the car but I wasn't worried. The car couldn't get more wet than it already was, where he had sat, a stain was left. An imprint of his body with water seeped into the fabric.

He set one foot out onto the wet dirt road and, from what I could see, he was ready to leave with the spirit of rejection. Remorse came over me once again, like it did the first time I saw him out in the pounding rain. He dropped his half-smoked cigarette and smouldered it with his foot. _Taking his sweet time_, I thought to myself. But instead of emerging from the car, he put his foot back in and closed the door. He leaned forward with authority and latched his hand onto Soda's shoulder.

"I'm going to sit here…" he menaced as he dug his fingers into Sodapop's shoulder blade. "And you're going to drive." My toes curled as I watched the scene unfold in front of me, too scared to do anything. Johnny was shaking in his corner, whispering a prayer. Shaking like he did whenever a soc walked by. But this…this was very different.

After Rick released Soda from his grasp, I let out a unnoticeable sigh. Instead of doing as Rick commanded, Soda kept turned around in his seat. "What was wrong with that car back there?" he demanded. And for the first time, soft spoken Rick snapped.

"Why?" he shot back. Soda just shrugged and turned back around in his seat. After a long, drawn out silence, Rick noticed me and Johnny were staring at him. "You boys greasers?" he asked, slightly grinning.

"Yes, sir." I replied.

It seemed like a stupid question to ask. Of course we were greasers. But what was it to him? He just settled back in his seat, not giving an explanation for his inquiry. After several minutes of tension and our bodies and car being stagnant, Rick came out with "I ran out of gas".

"So you need a gas station." Johnny piped up from beside me. The man shrugged and Soda started the engine again. Man, what were we thinking, bringing this guy along after the scene he just made? I guess if you want a ride, you have to be pushy. Or else you'd be stuck in the rain.

"Gas stations have cigarettes." he concluded smugly.

"Yeah, and gas." Johnny added. Johnny was that way. Once he got talking, he prolonged it.

"I…don't need gas." Rick retained. Why wouldn't he need gas? Something about this guy wasn't kosher. I could tell from the moment he refused to give us his destination. We should've let him off long ago.

"Look, what do you want?" I snapped. The man should have been intimidated. He should have backed down and felt threatened but instead he broke into spontaneous laugher. Laugher! Out of all the ways to react when you're being threatened, I never thought of laughing. He wouldn't let up, he laughed until his full set of teeth were showing. Me and Johnny looked to each other, more confused now than scared. Do you know the phrase: _laugher is contagious?_ Because Rick's sure was. In no time, all three of us were howling with laugher and grinning ear to ear. It was odd though, considering we had no idea _what_ we were laughing about. I guess, just the sound of his laugher made a smile creep across my face and a chuckle erupt from my core. The laugher died down soon enough and we were able to breath again.

"What's so funny?" I inquired, still slightly chuckling. Rick smiled at me.

"That's what the other guy said."

"Who's the other guy?"

"The guy driving that car back there. He picked me up before you guys did…"


	3. I choose life

**Thanks for the nice reviews! I wasn't sure if people would like this story so thanks! I stayed up till 3 in the morning writing this one so I hope you enjoy it!**

Rick's words seeped in and my smile slowly faded. If he had been in that guy's car, why didn't he want us to see it…?

"Was that him in the car?" I asked, my face was no longer bright and I had my guards back up, unlike the moment of laugher that had just past.

"Sure it was…he didn't get very far." Rick remarked and sat back in his seat like it was understood. His eerie quality had returned. When he erupted with laugher, I had thought maybe this man wasn't so creepy after all. I was starting to doubt myself with his previous statement.

"Why not?" I inquired. A deadly silence hung in the air as I awaited his answer. Johnny cleared his throat as if to hurry the man up. That was mighty brave of him, I thought. There was defiantly something wrong with this guy.

"Because I cut off his legs…and his arms…and his head…" Rick menaced, flickering his eyes at us. "And I'm gonna do the same to you.". Oh man, oh man, oh man! We're going to die! That's all I could think as my eyes widened as wide as the sea and my breath caught in my throat. I should've listened to Johnny and Soda when they hesitated about picking this man up. We were going to be murdered and it was all my fault. My body started to tremble as I grabbed Johnny's hand for support. The poor boy was shaking like a leaf. Sodapop gripped so hard onto the steering wheel that his knuckles turned white as we approached a construction occupied section of the road. There was no getting rid of Rick now.

Our car slowed down as a construction worker held his hand out as if telling us to stop. I was gonna yell, oh boy, would I holler. But Rick gently pulled out a knife and suggested it be pointed in my direction.

"Don't…" he threatened. Why had I been so stupid and left my switchblade at home? Darry. That's why. He had pulled it out of my suitcase and dangled it in front of me. _"What do you need this for?" _he had demanded. _"You aint gonna need this on a road trip!"_ and kept the devise of self defence. If only he knew.

I cursed my brother under my breath as the construction worker knocked on the window with his flash light. Soda remained motionless, like a rock, not budging. He didn't even acknowledge the man's existence. His brown eyes, from what I saw in the car mirror, were like that of stone. He was seemingly in shock - in his own world. Had he heard the knock at his window? The worker tried again, this time his knock was harder, louder, and Sodapop snapped out of his shock.

"Answer him," Johnny urged. "Please, just answer him.". He sounded close to tears so I gripped tighter onto his hand. It was damp and clammy, he had been perspiring out of fear, as I probably was. Would my sweat leave a stain in the fabric of my seat like the water off of Rick's coat left? I hoped not.

With trembling hands, Soda warily rolled down the window.

"What part of Oklahoma are you from?" the worker shouted over the sound of the machines. Soda looked blind sighted.

"Huh?"

"Your license plate…it says you're from Oklahoma. Which part?" the worker pried. This wasn't the time. Not that he knew that, he was just doing his job. But it really wasn't the time for affability. After a while of choking and stuttering, Soda finally delivered his answer.

"Tulsa" he stammered. Seemingly ignorant to Soda's distress, the worker's face lit right up.

"My wife's from Bixby!" he exclaimed. His gaze shot past Soda and landed on the three of us in the back seat. He appeared disturbed by what he had witnessed, his cheerfulness vanishing, as he looked away and glanced around him. He focused on anything but me, Johnny and Rick. He damn well knew what was going on.

He gave us a concluding glance and muttered "Alright, the road's clear now. Get going." as he lightly hit the roof of our car.

On the never ending, never forgiving roads once again, Rick leaned closer to me, his blade held just inches from my face.

I. Am. Going. To. Die. Those are the five words that echoed in my head, over and over. Until I started to believe them. I believed myself that this was it. The end of the line. The last breath. The kick of the bucket. Death. Sodapop kept a watchful eye in the car mirror.

"D-Don't you hurt him!" he stuttered a threat. Rick took no heed to his warning but brought the blade closer to my face.

"Do you have any idea what happens to an eye ball when it gets punctured?" he hissed, the blade now resting on my temple.

"Stop the car, Soda. For the love of God, stop the car!" Johnny wailed faintly from beside me. But his plead went unheard. Soda was in his secluded world again. As for me, I was too panic-stricken to say anything. To do anything. My breath just staggered as Rick ran the blade slowly down my cheek then back up to my temple again. It's smooth surface was cool on my skin and for a moment, it actually felt good. But I remembered one swift curve of that knife and that would be the end of my right eye. But what did it matter, I was going to die anyway, right?

"Do know how much blood pours out of a guy's neck once his throat's been slit?" Rick continued to torment me as he ran the blade near my neck. Oh boy, would Dally be pissed if we got blood on this car. What was I thinking? A man had a knife at my throat and all I could think about was Dallas and his stupid car. Darry was right, I never use my head.

My breath started to falter as I followed the knife with my eyes. "Please…I'll do anything" I pleaded, letting my cold sweat run gradually down my face.

"Say four words…" Rick commanded as if a trading offer was hidden in his statement.

"Ok" I agreed hastily. Anything to get this guy out of my face. Out of this car. Out of my life. An oppressive silence lingered in the car as the three of us awaited, what seemed like, my fate. But it was true. Rick held my fate. Despite all I had been through, nothing could have prepared me for what came out of Rick's mouth.

"Say: 'I want to die' " he ordered with that smooth voice of his.

I was taken aback. What do you say to that? I sat there, seeming dumbfounded, sitting in my own sweat, gathering the words. It was hard to concentrate with Johnny muttering "Your face, Pony. Oh, Pony, not your face.". My face? What had happened to my face? Hearing that, I was certain I had been sliced but too shocked to even feel it.

Without thinking, my words through, I blurted, "I don't know if I can say that.". Did I want to die? It was more of an understanding that I was going to die, more than it was a choice. Who _really_ wanted to die at all? Death was more of a fate than an option. But I could tell from Rick's smoothness that he wasn't like your ordinary killer. He liked to toy with people's minds and dangle their life right in their faces.

But those words, could I say them? _I want to die_, that's a risky business. How would Sodapop feel, watching his own kid brother being murdered? How would Johnny feel, witnessing the death of his closest friend?

No, I didn't want to die. I had too much to live for.

Although it seemed Rick was trading me my life for some measly words, it went deeper. Those four little words would confirm my willingness to die.

"Sure you can say that. Repeat after me…" Rick pressed, not ceasing his knife. I took an immersed breath. This was it.


	4. Bite the dust

The tension level in that car was too much. This would be my death bed. A hood's car with my dazed brother and my frenzied best friend. I let my eyes shut gently as I accepted my fate. Of all the ways I thought I might die, this was never on my list. My breath staggered as I delayed with Rick's words.

"Say it!" he demanded. And before I could help it, sweat wasn't the only water that was running down my face. My tears eventually joined my sweat beads and I was whimpering.

"I told you I cant say that!" I wailed at him with aggression. He pressured the salient edge of the knife slightly into my skin.

"Listen, you little white shit, you'll do what I tell you!" Rick snarled. I continued to blubber as my mind went blank. "Crying's not going to help." he hissed, back in his smooth tone. He would slip out of character when he was frustrated but when things were going his way, he was soft spoken like he was when he first entered the car.

"Ponyboy?" Soda's quivering voice came from the front. I answered him with a trembling jaw.

"Yeah, Soda?"

"I want you to know that I love you, brother." His words pierced my heart. How could I answer to that? What would Soda do without me? Would Darry weep at my death or would he complain that we were stupid to go on this trip? How would Johnny live on with the memory of me being murdered? I didn't know. But I really had no control over my fate now. It was left in the hands of a smooth talking killer.

I finally mustered the words and chocked with my reply. "I love you too."

Rick appeared to be getting impatient. "Now that we've established that you both love each other, I want to hear those four words…" he hissed with a wicked grimace on his face. I had made my peace with Soda and I had Johnny's hand grasped, our fingers entwined. I was ready. But no matter what I told myself, no matter how much I chided myself, I couldn't bring my mouth to form the words.

"Tell me you want to die!" Rick pressed, not dropping the blade that, with one tip, could end my life. While my lip quivered, my tear-blurred eyes caught on something. Rick's door…there was something odd about it. I just couldn't pin point it. You know when you're raking your brain for something that you just cant put your finger on, and suddenly you catch it and its almost like you're genius? That's how I felt when I realized Rick's door was left ajar. One light push and that door would swing right open. That's when it all clicked. You'll see.

"My God, Pony! Would you say something, please?" Johnny wailed, grasping tighter onto my hand.

"Your friend's wise. Say…you want…to die." Rick commanded again.

"I DON'T WANT TO DIE!" I shouted, my vocal's screeching. My eyes flickered and with one swift motion, knocking the knife from his hand, I shoved the man out of the car. His body flailed and rolled to a halt on the dirt road, us leaving him behind in the dust. After slamming the door with finality, I looked up and, suddenly, everything was brighter, like an oppression had been lifted. The oppression Rick carried with him. I had been so near to death that now, I was just bewildered. Like my actions were that of a dream.

Crawling, to the front of the car, I heard Johnny's words: _"Your face, Pony. Oh, Pony, not your face."_ ring in my ears. I needed to see the damage Rick had caused. Even though, I felt nothing, I couldn't tell either way. When you're scared, everything tingles. But when I grasped the car mirror and bent it in my direction, I saw that my face had been unscathed. Or nothing that I could catch from a first glance. I saw Soda and Johnny were looking at me too, now. The dusk has risen, we were safe from the night. Examining my face further, I confirmed with myself that Rick had left me unharmed.

"Yeah!" I released a cheer, my voice filled with glee. I turned back to assure myself that Rick was really gone and sure enough, he was just a figure in the distance, left for the devil. "Yeah!" I cheered again and Soda and Johnny joined in on the celebration.

"Yeah!" Soda howled and sounded the car horn.

"Aw yeah!" Johnny joined in from the back, and looking behind him into the distance between us and Rick, which was substantial now, he hollered "FUCK YOU, BUDDY!". We broke into laugher and cheered quite a while longer. With my final holler at the man, who could not hear us, I put my feet back up on the dash board with contentment. I had escaped death. I had really thought my number was up. People say you cant cheat death. Well they can kiss my ass because I just showed death to the door.

Soda laughed and messed up my hair. "You know, I really thought we were gonna loose you, Pony." he sighed, there was hurt in his voice. It bothered me to hear his voice in that tone. I wanted to lift his spirits.

"Tell me about it. But I'm ok now, Soda. Really, he didn't hurt me." I assured him with a consoling voice. I rolled down the window, the rain had let up and now a gentle wind was hustling through the mountains, sun gently gracing my face. My hair was being blown back but I didn't care. It wasn't the effects the wind had on me, it was the voices it seemed to own. The wind somehow seemed to whisper names.

_Rick Judgar…Rick Judgar….Ponyboy…Ponyboy Curtis…._

Slightly spooked, I took my feet off the dash and straightened in my seat. It was just my mind playing tricks on me, I knew it. I needed to unwind and enjoy this road trip. Rick was gone…right?


	5. You've got a killer in your car!

**Thanks for the reviews (: Story alert, I just thought of a really good idea today and I might be starting a new story. I still have to do my research but do you guys think two stories would be too much at the same time?**

Now that Rick was no longer haunting me and making me strain for my life, I was more then relieved. How I'd forget about this was up to me but, either way, I had to. I couldn't go through life, sitting around and thinking about how close a vile man named Rick Judgar came to killing me.

Our car trudged along the Arizona roads, the stereo blaring again, us loud mouthed greaser singing carelessly along. Thinking ourselves to be along on these roads until Johnny spotted another car driving along in front of us.

"Turn down that music, huh?" he scolded. We didn't want people to think we were irresponsible hoods even on the road. We weren't. If people knew what we just encountered, they might've gone light on us. But there was no bumper sticker on our car reading "Almost murdered!".

From the back window of the car in front of us, I noticed a young girl, she couldn't be much over 5, staring back at us and waving with her petite little hand.

"Hey, cutie." I laughed and waved back to her. I hadn't been around younger children too much, thus, I wasn't sure how to react. But my wave seemed to be valid because she smiled back at me, petting the teddy bear that sat on the back dash, propped up against the window.

"Cute kid." Soda commented admiringly. I was planning on waving a second time when the seemingly harmless teddy bear shifted to reveal a man's face that held a wicked smile. His light wispy hair was being blown by the mountainous winds. Yet the man's face appeared to be handsome and he was good-looking to the naked eye, there was something his smirk that told me he knew more than he let on. It was then when I gagged on the chocolate bar I was chomping on.

That face…was none other than Rick's.

"Holy shit!" I started shouting, my voice going raspy.

"What? What?" Soda demanded, his face going from content to worried. I fumbled with the words until I was able to point a trembling finger at the man sneering at me through the back window.

"Soda, its him! Its him!" I cried out.

"He's going to murder that little girl!" Johnny proclaimed from the back. I suddenly felt responsible for the young girl's life. If I had killed Rick, her life wouldn't be on the line. I had to chance to grab the knife and turn it on him but I had been too dazed to think.

He's going to kill her…he's going to take an innocent life, I thought.

"Not if we can help it!" Soda took pride in his authority and sped up the vehicle so we were parallel with the other car. I gestured for Johnny to roll down his window and he obeyed. Now leaning my own head out of the car, I started to shout at the drivers over the sound of the wind and the roaring cars.

"Hey! Pull over! You've got a killer in your car! He's a killer!" I shouted aggressively and waved my arms frantically. The man and the woman driving seemed to be baffled as they gingerly rolled down their window.

"What's that?" the man called out. Johnny slowly stuck his head out his window, his jet black hair being swooshed around by the wind.

"The man in your car is a killer!" he shouted back at the naive man. The poor guy had no clue. He still couldn't hear us over the noise.

Waving my arms again, I yelled "He's a killer! That man's a fucking killer in your car!".

I could see Rick smirking face now through the back seat window. He had the girl in his arms and from one menacing look, I knew. I knew he was going to kill that girl and her parents, no question. Its almost like he wanted me to know. Its not like I could stop him. Taking his eyes off the road, Soda leaned over me, straining his neck, he roared.

"Get that creep out of your car!" The man and woman said nothing but rolled their window back up in fear as the woman pointed a dainty finger in our direction. They thought we were trying to hurt them. Foolish people.

"SODA!" Johnny's voice screeched from the back as his body flailed forward and took charge of the steering wheel, just as our car was being slammed by a truck. Destructing nothing but the back bumper, our car swerved to the side, coming to a halt on the dusty side road. Slamming his head down on the steering wheel, Soda let out a groan.

"Oh boy, Dally's gonna kill us. He's just gonna kill us…" he muttered in darkness, referring to the trashed bumper.

"Us? What about that girl and her family?" Johnny snapped from the back. Soda didn't reply to his judgment but looked back at him with forlorn admiration.

"You saved our lives, Johnnycake. I aint gonna argue with you." he sighed and languidly started the car again. It was true. I sure a hell hadn't seen that truck. If it hadn't been for Johnny, we all would have been toast. Near death experience #2. Trust me, that's when I started the count.

Recovering from the scene we just encountered, I had the feeling that wasn't the last we were going to see of Rick. And my prediction would soon come accurate when we sighted an all too familiar car ceased at the side of the road. We all looked to each other, we all knew what it was. We were just too scared to say it out loud. Sodapop sullenly pulled the car over once again.

"Do we look?" he asked, his bouncy brown eyes were now clouded over and showed distress. I never thought I'd see the day when Soda's eyes died. So to speak.

"No way, man. I aint looking! You guys got to be crazy to look." Johnny protested. I wasn't sure what I wanted to do. I had never seen a dead person up close before. When Mom and Dad died, they covered them with a blanket. Would I want to see the cute little girl I had waved to dead? Before I could decide, Soda was slipping out of the vehicle and half way over to the motionless car. In time, I was following in step behind him. The winds whipped at my back, slapping my clothes against my body.

"Are you sure you want to look, Soda?" I called to him. My voice echoed through the mountains. The quietness was stale. Ignoring me, he peered through the car's window, cupping his hands around his eyes. I began take a step closer when Soda charged away from the car, pushing me out of the way, him doubled over.

"Soda?"

"Don't look!"

"What? Why no-"

"I said _don't_! Ponyboy, listen to me! Don't look in that car, whatever you do!" he hollered then proceeded to vomit.

Leaving Soda, I walked back to the car in shock. Johnny was perched on his chair, trembling.

He spoke no words but said hoarsely chocked out "I told you not to look."


	6. Yet another encounter

**Once again, thanks for the reviews (:**

Back on the road, there was a stagnant silence lingering in the air. Like before, Soda had reset to his secluded world of self shock. I sat silently in the back with a trembling Johnny, my arm over his shoulder. He had been shaken up by the sight of Sodapop's vomiting and the very thought of that young girl being murdered.

"What now?" I asked out loud, not sure if I wanted an answer. I waited a while until Johnny's quivery voice cracked through the silence.

"We tell the police." I didn't see the point of telling the police. We had no proof, no information, no pictures. Nothing but our haunting memories.

"That aint our place, Johnny. We just gotta pretend it didn't happen." I sighed with defeat. Hoping he would let it drop, my desires were not met. He looked at me, bewildered, as the cause for his trembling went from fear to rage.

"Pretend it didn't happen? Pony, that man almost killed you! How are you ever going to forget that? If we don't tell the cops, he going to kill more innocent people and commit murder all over the country! Is that what you want?" he cried passionately, concluding with running his hands through his hair.

"Johnny, you know that's not what I want." I soothed, trying to calm his angered soul. But before more words could escape from his mouth, Soda was bringing the car to a halt outside a seemingly abandoned gas station. We were in a lonely southern town now, it didn't matter which one. All I knew was that we were far from California and close to Rick Judgar.

"Alright, you two. Listen up, this is what we're going to do. Johnny, you're going to calm down and stop panicking. Ponyboy, you're going to lock the car and keep watch while I go in here and call the cops." Soda said breathlessly, staring at us with a far-away look in his once joyful brown eyes. I became worrisome of him. He didn't seem sane.

"No, Soda. I'll go phone the cops, you stay here with Johnny. Besides, you guys need to get some sleep." I protested, although I had no idea what I was saying while I was saying it. Despite him looking like he wanted to object, Soda gently rested his head against the window.

"Ok, Ponyboy." he whispered as I emerged from the car.

Stumbling into the barn by the gas pumps, I discovered it was abandoned and was filled with nothing but an old car, some destructed tables and furniture, old chains dangling from the walls, farming tools and the swooshing dust. It wasn't until a cringe of dust slapped my tough hair against my cheek when I noticed my hair hadn't much grease in it anymore. Suddenly, I didn't feel so hot. Hunting for a pay phone in the barn, I came upon a battered and faded retro styled pay phone. The eeriness effecting my nerves as I repetitively tapped the receiver. I cursed under my breath as I swiftly strode away from the phone to return back to the car but I was in a fearful state, my motions were spastic.

I was jolted in shock by the clanging of the chains and the dust torpedoing up in front of me. When it cleared, a figure was visible. A man. But just not any man.

Rick Judgar.

I jerked away from him with a gasp, my whole body beginning to tremble. Oh, how I wished I had let Soda go instead of me.

In Rick's hand, there was a small object, unrecognizable to me. _Dear God, let it not be a knife_, I pleaded with God. But, even though the item was unknown, I knew it could not be a knife, the way it dangled from his finger tips. He held it out to me, the mettle it contained, clashing together. That's when I realized that the object he obtained were car keys - our car keys. But how…?

Rick said nothing but gave me a menacing look as he tossed the keys at my feet. He didn't demand a ride, he didn't threaten to take my life like he did once before. The look he gave me was threatening enough.

With Rick walking slowly from the barn, I was frozen with fear. The car keys lay at my feet but was I sane enough to bend down and pick them up? Apparently so because, after moments of my mind marvelling, my body was bending towards the jagged pieces of mettle.

As I slowly stalked out of the barn, all my mind was thinking about was Johnny and Sodapop. And what Rick might have done to them. Why had I advised them to sleep? They would be more vulnerable to attack. I brought myself to run as I rushed to our parked car. Soda's door was agape, him lounged in slumber as was Johnny in the back. It might have been my mind playing tricks, it must have been because for a brief moment of horror, I could swear I saw blood trickling down Soda's neck.

"Sodapop! Sodapop!" I cried out, shaking him by the shoulder aggressively. He jostled awake, commanding me to stop.

"Glory, kid. You just about gave me a heart attack!" he teased and for a split second I could see the life in his eyes, them dancing and cheering. Johnny stared at us with beady eyes, seeming puzzled. I offered him a smile to assure him all was fine but I brought myself to peer out amongst the wind to spot Rick. Sure enough, he was waiting by the side of the road, thumb protruding from his hand and his head cocked out. Waiting for some poor soul to pick him up. Like clock work, a navy blue truck came to a halt and opened its door for him to hitch a ride. I thought of yelling. Of warning the man who was sure to be murdered. I really did think of it. But I had too much in my mind to concern myself with that poor man. With a man willingly opening the door to that devil of a man. Little did he know, he was opening the door to hell.


	7. Keep your sanity

**Thanks for the great reviews. I'm thinking on brining a character named Jim Halsey into this story, I'm not sure whether I should or not. If I did, then it'd be considered a cross over. We'll see how things go, I might bring him in depending on the outcome. **

The day was aging, now in the mid morning, and by now I was barely sane as our car continued to trudge along the dusty roads of a deserted town. Johnny's head was resting gently upon my shoulder as he silently wept. He was my best friend, I was worried for him but at the same time, five words that Rick had hissed at me were going through my mind, they wouldn't leave me alone. _Crying's not going to help…_,Those were the words that haunted me along with the four other forsaken words that were sure to end my life. Soda was silent at the wheel, most likely inhis own world once again.

Thinking all was clear, I reached with one arm to grasp my water bottle. The water flowed wonderfully down my throat, quenching my thirst and relaxing my body. I let my eyes shut gently as I indulged myself in the cool, refreshing water. With one jolt of the car, I chocked on the cool water as it overflowed from the bottle, spilling all over the car floor and my shirt. What was that?

"What the hell?" I said out loud with water still in my throat, whirling my upper body around to face the force of our sudden push. A familiar navy blue truck was right at our previously warped bumper. Johnny snapped out of his weepy state and faced the back too. My stomach jumped when I recognized the shape of the car, the look of those doors. The man driving the car, a man who had now fixed himself on haunting us. Rick Judgar. That handsome yet wicked beast.

"Holy shit…" Johnny muttered in fear when he too recognized the man's face. I was slightly taken aback by his curse. It was rare to hear Johnny use foul language. Except for the time when I ridded Rick from the car. His curse seemed perfectly in character then.

"Soda, drive faster!" he demanded, kicking at Soda's chair.

"It's him, isn't it…" Sodapop sounded on the verge of tears. It was evident that the cause of the force was Rick. Why he was fixed on stalking us and making our lives hell, was beyond me. But he obviously found pleasure in it.

"Yeah, just drive!" Johnny snapped at him and, just as Johnny commanded, Soda pushed his foot down onto the gas, going about 95. But our car was jostled forward again, twice more. The man wouldn't give up. By now, we were just shouting at each other in frustration and fear, no meaning to our words. Until finally, Rick's car, or the man's that he murdered, took to the side road, kicking up dust with its heavy wheels. That was not the final encounter. I knew our final encounter wouldn't be for a long time.

"Ok, now we're calling the cops." Soda affirmed as he stopped the car at a modern looking gas station. No way was I going alone like last time.

"Johnny, come along with me. Let Soda rest." I told Johnny as we both emerged from the car, heading towards the station.

"What happened at that last station? You seemed shaken up." Johnny inquired as we approached the doors. I shrugged, not wanting to worry him. But I knew I couldn't lie to him.

"Rick." I replied deadpan. That one word was like a mountain that weighed heavy in my mouth. It was difficult to say his name out loud now. And just by that one word, Johnny knew the whole story.

I grabbed the handle of the front door and rattled it aggressively. Locked. It must have still been early because nothing seemed to be open yet. Johnny let out a dramatic sigh and pressed his face against the glass door, eyeing the pay phone only feet away from our grasp.

"This is crazy. You know that, Pony?" Johnny said with a doleful chuckle as he turned around and leaned his back against the glass door. I didn't know what to say to him. Things had been happening so fast, I never had time to reason with the situation. I couldn't. If I let my mind ponder it, I'd surely go insane. That's why Johnny was edgy all the time. Because he was letting himself think about it.

I placed a hand gently on his shoulder. "You cant think about that right now, Johnny. We just have to get out of here. Some way or another, we'll get away from Rick. We just cant loose our sanity. Then he wins." I advised him with power in my voice, the words hanging heavy in the morning air.

We walked back to the car in silence until a roaring engine caused me to whirl around. To my astonishment, a truck - a navy blue truck. Guess who - was charging in our direction.

"Run, Johnny! Run!" I screamed after standing there, dumbfounded. The tires squealed as they carried the car towards us. We couldn't out run that truck. Any fool could see that. Sprinting towards the car, I grabbed Johnny by the arm and pulled him to the ground with me in hopes of lying between the wheels of the truck when it passed. Notice how I said between the wheels. Not under them.

"Are you crazy?" Johnny screamed at me once we had rolled onto the pavement. I left his question unanswered as Rick ran the car into a gas pump, the gas sputtering up like a fountain. The gas rained over us and drenched us, the smell making me gag and stinging my nose. I wiped the gas from my face but, despite my efforts, it would be wet for a while. Me and Johnny scrambled to get to our feet, slipping on the pavement wet with gas. This man was going to kill us this time. I was sure of it. He pulled his truck back but only to charge towards us again, the engine roaring and the tires screeching. I grasped Johnny's hand and shut my eyes. My body trembling, I told myself: the end.

I cracked my eyes open and the head lights of Rick's truck were at my head but the vehicle was at a halt. I wasn't dead. Yet. Instead of running us over, Rick gave us a wicked grin as he lit a match, yet there was no cigarette in his mouth. That's when it clicked. The fire, the gas, our bodies drenched in a fire's fuel - gas. We were the fire's kindling. It would burn us alive, should he drop that match. And by the sneer on his face, I could tell those were his exact intentions.

"Ponyboy!" Johnny's panic-stricken voice shouted my name as he was hauling my up by the arm. My world seemed to be moving in slow motion as I ran to the car. In my head, I was praying as if I was going to die.

_Tell Darry I always loved him._

Left foot.

_Make sure Johnny doesn't get beat down on because I'm gone._

Right foot.

_Comfort Soda, don't let him mourn too long. _

Left foot.

_Soften Dallas' heart. Let this warn him._

Right foot.

_Two-Bit and Steve, don't burden them. Let them not remember my flaws._

Left foot.

_I'm coming home, Mama. Pa, we'll reunite again. I'm coming home, Mama, I'm coming home._

Right foot.

_I'm coming home._

Left foot.

And with one last step, I was in the back seat, collapsing to the sound of Johnny's voice yelling at Soda.

"Drive, Soda! Drive! For the love of God, start the damn car!" he screamed at him. And that is when everything went black.


	8. Meeting Nash

**Once again, I'd like to thank you all for the wonderful reviews (: Now, I was debating about bringing in a female character, but I'm at a part where I need one. I did decide to add one so hopefully she will be likable. **

When I came to, my eyes cracked slowly open, Johnny and Sodapop's faces were blurry creatures in front of me.

"Johnnycake? Sodapop?" my voice amplified in my head until there were thousands of voices. I started to get up but Johnny gently impelled me back down.

"Shh, its ok, Pony." he soothed to me. What had happened? The last thing I remembered, I was running. I couldn't remember what I was running for. Or running from. Something urgent. Something that could take my life in a single moment. It all came rushing back; the truck, the oil, the running, the prayer, Rick's grimacing face. It hit me suddenly, so powerful that I had trouble even comprehending it. I reached a slightly trembling hand up to my hair. Instead of it being combed back with grease, like it usually was, I found it was soaked with gas, as was Johnny's.

"Where are we?" I asked, remembering the gas station. "What happened to Rick?". Johnny cast his eyes upward as if to reassure himself that our location hadn't changed.

"We're in a parking lot of a diner. Rick drove outta that station just as fast he came. Now, we're going to see if we can use the phone in this diner, I think you better stay here." he advised me cautiously as he and Soda started to descend from the car.

"No!" I protested, sitting up hastily, the blood rushing to my head. I winced with pain but forced myself to slip out of the car and join the other two terrified greasers. Terrified of a man who was fixed on killing them.

I was still in a frenzied state when I knocked my knuckles against the cold glass doors of the diner, Soda and Johnny standing calmly to the side. In the diner, the lights were on, I could tell someone was in there. Would they help us? They had to help! It was evident that passing out did not calm me down, only made me more edgy.

I received no answer to my knock so I tried again. I wasn't going to back down. My knuckles banged on the doors again, rattling them as I did so. A young woman appeared at the door, she couldn't have been much over 17. She had short golden hair, swept away from her face and her sparkling blue eyes seeped into my soul. She was beautiful, I knew that much. But me being immature to girls and romance, I probably wouldn't known a beautiful woman if I was slapped in the face with one. Lovely metaphor, isn't it?

"We're closed!" she called to me through the glass door. "We don't open for another 45 minutes…".

"Please! I need to use the phone!" I pleaded, placing my hands flat on the door's smooth surface.

"Sorry, I cant let you in, we're closed." she replied, her southern accent ringing in my ear. She was being stubborn, but I wouldn't have it. I started to panic as I rattled the door again.

"No! Listen! Please, I have to call the cops!" I persisted, yelling now. Soda put a hand on my arm but I shrugged him off. I was in no mood to be told what to do.

The girl's expression softened when she learned I needed to phone the police. She started slowly towards me, considering letting me in.

"What happened?" she inquired.

"Look, I cant explain right now, I just need to use the phone!" I shouted to her. I glared at her, my eyed widening. She stood, giving me a sceptical look. But that look slowly turned to empathy as she strode towards the door and began to unlock it.

"If my boss saw me doing this, he'd kick my butt. Phone's around the corner, go on." she muttered seeming somewhat happy with herself. I gave her a diminutive smile of gratitude as I paced into the diner, Johnny and Soda trailing behind me. She seemed somewhat alarmed at the sight of two more boys. They probably were out of eyeshot from her before.

"You guys stink of gasoline. Were ya'll in an accident?" she called after us.

Johnny shot her a '_your pathetic' _look and snarled, "Yeah, sure. If that's what you want to call it."

I paraded through to the back, picking the phone up and dialling the number for the police station. My voice was raspy as I replied to their questions.

"Hello, police? My name's Ponyboy Curtis, I witnessed a couple people that were…well, I picked this guy up hitch hiking and…the same guy that blew up that gas station and…its Ponyboy Curtis! P-O-N-Y-B-O-Y C-U-R-T-I-S. I'm at the Longhorn diner, its right off of…oh, you do? Yes, sir…yes, sir, I wont go anywhere…thank you." I hung up the phone with finality and looked to the boys. Soda nodded approvingly and gestured for us to head into the bathroom. We didn't question him, just followed.

Once inside the bathroom, we examined the large mirror above the sinks, fixing ourselves. I was revolted by the face the peered back at me in the mirror. I looked horrendous. My hair sticking out and smothered with a sticky liquid gas, a dirt-like film on my face from the swirling wind in that barn. That face that stared back at me was not myself. That was a tough looking young man who was on edge and cold to the world. Yet my eyes told a tale of woe, a different story from what my smouldering, tension stricken face told.

"Jeez…" I let out a mutter as I eyed myself.

"Well, boys…wash up!" Soda announced with a hint of silliness. Even in this agony, he was able to find the sunshine. I loved my brother, if he should die at the hitcher's wrath, I didn't know how I'd go on living.

I liberated myself under the running water, letting it refresh me and charge my soul. The cool water splashed up into my face and I splashed some onto my back after I removed my shirt. Johnny and Soda were doing the same. At least we were still alive.

Emerging from the bathroom, the girl was at the diner's counter, a plate of steaming fries sat there untouched. We slowly inched towards her, hoping like mad that those fries were for us.

"Fries are on the house." The girl smiled and slightly thrust the plate of fries in our direction as we took a seat.

"That's real nice of you. Really appreciate it." Soda thanked the girl, winking with those charming eyes of his. My brother had always been a ladies man.

"Is everything gonna be ok?" she asked, now turning slightly solemn.

"I hope so." Soda chuckled.

"Well, you sure look a whole lot better. Guess its ok to smoke now, huh?" she teased as she lit up a cigarette. She was cool in that sense. She wasn't like most girls, loosing their minds being drop-dead stupid. She knew the score. "I'm sorry I gave you such a hard time back there. You wouldn't believe the kind of trash I get around here." she continued as she puffed away at her foul cigarette. Extending her free hand towards Sodapop, she said, "My name's Nash.". Soda took her hand and shook it well.

"I'm Sodapop Curtis. This is my brother, Ponyboy, and our friend, Johnny." Soda introduced us. _Oh Great_, I thought, _time to get laughed at_. I loathed having to tell someone my name for the first time. Sometimes I wished I had a different name, though on the other hand, I wouldn't have it any other way. But the girl didn't smirk, she didn't tease. She just gave us an amused smile and shook all of our hands with a firm grip.

"Y'know, we really appreciate this." I spoke up, with a slight nervousness. I had never been confident with girls, let alone girls that were evidently beautiful. Johnny shot me a look that said _speak for yourself_. What was bothering him? Nash flashed me one of her smiles as she leaned down on the counter with her elbows.

"So, where ya'll from?" she inquired.

"Tulsa." I replied.

"Where y'all headed?"

"California." I said breathlessly, impressed with myself for keeping this cool. She giggled a little and turned her gaze towards Soda again. Her mouth was moving, I could see it. But for some reason, there were no words. My mind had tuned her out as I focussed on the radiator knob, my gaze shooting past her mane of blonde hair. I was absentmindedly nibbling on the fries when, suddenly, a rush of thoughts hit me. Thoughts that would've never of entered my mind if I hadn't encountered this man, Rick. If I had been sane. I was going to get Rick. I was going to make him pay. For terrorizing us. For making our lives hell. I wasn't going to let my brother nor my friend perish. This vile man was not going to get the best of me.

"Ponyboy?" Nash's voice broke through my thoughts and sucked me back to reality. A place I didn't want to be.

"Huh?" I murmured. She just let out a soft laugh.

"Never heard a word I said, did you."

"I'm sorry. I-I was thinking." I stumbled upon the words, slightly blind sighted. For all I knew, she had been talking to Soda. She smiled again and informed us to enjoy our fries as she had to fetch an item from the freezer. We sat there like zombies, our only motion would be to shovel fries into our mouths. Left hand picks up fry, left arm moves towards mouth, mouth opens, hand releases fry, mouth chews, left arm goes back down for another fry. Repeat the process and that would describe the three of us, exact carbon copies.

I was intensely staring at the wall as I ate until I felt a sudden crunch in my teeth, like a grinding. I thought nothing of it until Soda jumped from his chair, knocking over the plate of fries and yelped.

"Glory to God!" he shouted, seemingly chocking on his fry.

"What?" Johnny exclaimed, looking over at him. Soda bolted out of that diner as fast as lightning, him doubled over and chocking the whole way. He pushed the glass doors of the diner wide open as, yet again, he proceeded to vomit. Alarmed now, I glanced over on the counter top and, in fright I saw, there lay a human finger. Rick had been here. This was another warning.


	9. Framed

I chased after Soda, Johnny trailing behind me. Just as we stumbled out the doors, the glorious sound of police sirens sounded from down the road. _Thank God_, I thought. _Thank God, we're saved_. But the scene that was about to unfold in front of me, I could never of predicted.

"Stand where you are! Put your hands in the air and get down on the ground!" the police officer yelled as he, and another officer pointed their guns at Sodapop. Why where the yelling at him? Confused, I opened my mouth to talk, but Soda beat me to it.

"Wait a minute, he's in there! He's in there!" Soda screamed, his voice held a tone of distress. He was cut off when the hollering officer fired his gun at the ground to silence him.

"Get your ass on the cement or we open fire! I'm not gonna tell you again!" he growled. Trembling, Soda slowly did as the man commanded, his face filled with terror. Now, I was extremely baffled. Had they mistaken Soda for Rick? I could only stand there and watch, helplessly.

Once Soda was completely on the pavement, the officers lowered their guns and the younger one strode over to him.

"Put your hands behind your back…real slow…" the officer demanded and Soda complied. _You asshole_, I thought, _get your hands off my brother_. Rage started to shoot through me as I balled my fists, couldn't they see that Soda was a victim? Not a murderer? Sodapop let out a anguished groan as the officer hauled him up and slammed him down on the hood of the police car.

"My wallet's in my pocket-" Soda moaned in a whimper, breathing heavily.

"Shut up!" the officer snarled, sinking his fingers into Soda's shoulders. "We know how to do it."

Exasperated, I lunged towards them. "Let him go! Let him go, he's innocent! He didn't do anything! Let him go!" I screamed at them as Johnny struggled to hold me back. The officer snapped his head back to look at me, giving me a look of annoyance, while the other cop proceeded to empty Soda's pockets.

"I suggest you shut up and let us handle this, alright kid?" he retorted. I took a deep breath and shook my head. These officers were perceptibly oblivious to the fact that Soda was not the killer.

"You've got the wrong guy! You gotta listen to me, you've got-"

"My God!" the other cop exclaimed in horror as he dropped one of the items as if it were a hot potato, it clanging on the hood of the car. I peered through the dusty air and, laying on the hood of the car, was a switchblade, soaked in blood. My eyes widened as my stomach did a back flip. Soda did the same, staring bewildered at the item.

"Oh my God…he put that there, he put that there!" Soda cried out, his breath staggering. My eyes started to well over with tears as the officer slammed him down harder onto the car.

Pressing a pistol to the back of his head, he hissed, "Now, shut up.". Soda's moaning got louder as they hauled him up from the car and threw him into the back seat. This couldn't be happening, not my brother, they couldn't take Sodapop.

"No!" I cried out, reaching my arms out to Soda. "He's innocent, he's innocent!" I started to wail as the tears in my eyes flooded over and streamed down my face. Johnny held a firm grip, his arms secured around my chest as I struggled to get to my framed brother.

"I thought I told you to _shut up_!" the officer snarled at me again. Ignoring him, I kept flailing my arms about and frantically started to shout.

"Sodapop! Sodapop! No! He's not a murderer! He's only sixteen!" I screamed out. My voice came to a cease when I heard the doors to the diner swing open.

"What's going on?" Nash's southern voice inquired from beside us.

"You keep to yourself." the officer snapped.

"Why are you arresting him?" she persisted. She had obviously been struck by Soda's charm. Why else would she put up such a fight?

"You know this guy?" the officer asked rudely, as he gave her the time of day.

She pondered the question a while, then finally muttered, "Not really, no."

"Then, what the hell is he doing inside? Half the cops in the state are looking for this creep!" the cop informed her, then turning to the other cop, he growled, "Lets get this sack of shit out of here.". Watching my brother being pulled away was one of the hardest things I'd ever had to do. His petrified eyes seeping into mine as the car vroomed away.

"Soda!" I wailed out as my limbs went limp and Johnny let me fall to the ground. As for Nash, her look of pleasure turned to a look of disgust as she eyed us. Like somehow, we were different to her now. She couldn't possibly believe that Soda was a murderer…could she? I gazed up at her, my head resting on the pavement. Her glare sliced right through my skin, making me shiver. She looked at me like I didn't deserve to be alive.

"You don't believe them, do you?" I croaked. Her eyes cast away from me then returned to my forlorn face.

"I don't know what to believe." she spat at me and stomped back inside, making a point of locking the door behind her. I looked back at Johnny as he gently pulled me up from the stone paved ground. I looked at him in a quail way.

"We have to save Sodapop." I naturally thought he'd nod right along and say, "Sure, Pony. Lets go get him.". But I was met with a different response. He glanced around uncertainly and began to stutter.

"Pony, if we went after him, we could get arrested too. Put into jail for something we didn't even do." he objected.

"So you're saying we just let him get jailed?" I asked, anger rising inside of me again.

"All I'm saying is, hey, I'm sixteen! I don't want to be put behind bars for the rest of my life for something I didn't even do. Besides, its not safe to go follow him." he said softly. I couldn't believe my ears. For the first time that I had known Johnny, I became upset with him. He wasn't even willing to try to bring Soda to justice. I shot him a nasty look and turned on him. Without another word, I began to stomp off, disappearing into the swirling dust of this small town.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Johnny yelled after me.

I swiftly snapped my head back and answered, "Bringing my brother to justice.". I must have walked for an hour before I realized Johnny was behind me. What gave him away was his irregular breathing and the sound of his tennis shoes scraping the dirt. We walked on for another hour, not once did I turn around and not one word did mutter to him. I had never been so hostile to him before but at that very moment, I didn't give a damn. My brother had been framed and Johnny didn't even care.

The moment I saw the police station standing in the distance, I let out a relieved sigh. Finally, I had found the holding place of my unjustified brother. Without thinking, I turned back to Johnny, breaking the unofficial silent contest.

"There it is!" I announced with finality and joy. A smug grin slowly crept across the black haired greaser's face, in spite of himself.

"I guess it is." Johnny sighed. I rushed to the building, its back faced towards us.

"Time to bust Soda out!" I exclaimed, excited. But a sheepish looking Johnny had something else in mind. He put his hands up in a surrender and gently shook his head.

"No way, Ponyboy. This is where I stop." he protested. What did I expect? Johnny was never one to stand up. Only one to stand by. But to his dismay, I perceived the sound of muttering voices and discovered it was coming from a back window. I tugged Johnny along as I thrust myself up upon the red brick building, listening to the voices that seeped out of the window above our heads.

"Where's your driver's license? Your ID?" a burly voice thundered, sounding very menacing. I figured the voice to come from an officer. After he finished his statement, all I could hear was the suspenseful silence and the cracking of leather. Suddenly, a youthful voice broke through.

"The guy I've been telling you about, took my wallet and he planted the knife…my license was in my wallet." Sodapop! That voice was Soda's, I could point his voice out anywhere! My heart leapt as I felt there was still hope left to save him.

"I suppose he took your vehicle registration too." the officer said sceptically. "What's a boy like you driving such a fancy car? You steal it, boy?". More tension filled silence and leather cracking. I knew the man was referring to the fact that Soda was a greaser.

"The car doesn't belong to me, it's a friend of mines. The guy who owns it lives in Tulsa." Soda stammered.

"What's his name?" the officer inquired. Soda hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should release the information. But what choice did he have?

"Dallas Winston." Soda croaked out our friend's name. "Why don't you call him! He'll tell you!" his voice rose.

"Well you better start calling somebody 'cause you're in deep shit." the cop retorted as the sound of a chair squeezing replaced the cracking leather. Soda then proceeded to repeat the number to Buck Merril's bar. That's where we'd find Dally a lot of the time. The sound of the phone's dial tone echoed through the room.

No answer.

Soda's breath began to stagger and in a panicked voice, he sounded, "Well then call my brother, Darry! He'll be home.". He then recited our home phone number. Yet again, the dial tone echoed. When the line went dead, Soda began to panic again. "Maybe you didn't let it ring long enough!". But from the energy in the room, I could tell he wasn't going to get another chance. "Do I look like a killer to you?" he shouted, desperate to save himself. After a drawn out silence, the officer's voice broke through.

"Lock him up, get him out of my sight." he ordered, and just as he commanded, the sound of foot steps started to fade away.

"Sodapop!" I let out a muffled yelp as Johnny slapped his hand over my mouth. My hopes had drained, whatever chance Soda had of clearing his name seemed gone. Johnny placed a consoling arm around me just as I heard more voices come from the window.

"Jack,…that kid aint a killer. Any fool can see that." the man's voice sighed. If they knew Soda was innocent, why were they keeping him?


	10. Busting out

**Many thanks for the reviews!**

After hearing the news that the police would keep my brother, despite that he was innocent, my knees went limp and I let myself gradually fall, my back pressed against the rough brick wall of the police station.

"Soda." I let out an poignant whimper. Johnny watched me out of his dark eyes, anguish written across his beaten face. This had taken a toll on all of us, and I would tell you, from this point onward was when we started to loose our minds. Loose our sanity. Even though I had told Johnny that our sanity was all we had left, I wasn't so sure myself, when Soda got locked up. He didn't deserve this, he had never done wrong by anyone. He'd always tried so hard to please everyone.

"C'mon, Pony. We gotta get going. We cant stay here." Johnny said softly as he extended a hand my way to hoist me up. But I did not take his hand, nor did I humour him.

"I'm not leaving, Johnny." I proclaimed, my words cold as stone and my eyes narrowing at him, my glare getting colder with each word. He muttered something under his breath, looking to the mountains then turning back towards me.

"You want to go get Soda? Huh? You want to get caught and thrown into jail just like he did? Fine, you go ahead. But you wont have me to come with you." he sighed, by the tone of his voice, I could tell he thought I was going to forget the idea. He had another thing coming.

"Fine." I spat at him, brushing his extended arm away and bringing myself up from the ground, sparsely tinted with grass. "Fine." I repeated as I stomped off, kicking the dirt up with my heels. Alarmed, Johnny chased after me.

"You cant be serious! C'mon, listen to me! Ponyboy!" he coaxed me but it would do no good. Ignoring him, I hoisted myself up onto a window ledge, the window left ajar. Thanking my fortune, I slipped through, it's rusty, paint scrapped edges digging into my back. Once I was on the other side, I winced but did not stop. I was determined to find Sodapop. For a police station, you'd think they'd have more security. But in a town as unpopulated and as small as this, I guess they didn't see the point. Johnny's small voice was calling my name but his voice slowly faded as I crept down the halls, my steps slow and cautious. The stale silence lingered in the air, the only sounds were my tennis shoes on the concrete tiles and my staggering breath.

Cajoling myself that I was insane and would never find Soda, I kept on wandering, despite how much I tried to talk myself out of it.

Soon, I arrived at a room, filled with seemingly empty jail cells. I rushed through them, calling out Soda's name, grasping the bars with my hands and rattling every cell. Finally, I came upon a cell with a figure, huddled in the back, a silent hoarse scream seemed to be coming from the figure.

"Sodapop!" I called out, clanging the bars. This had to be him, who else could it be? The figure didn't move, didn't acknowledge my existence so I tried again. "Soda!". The figure slowly turned around to reveal a young man's smug face. He brought himself to the bars and looped his arms through them.

"Nope, just plain old Orange Crush." the young man toyed with me, his eyes shimmering. He looked to be about 19. The boy was quite tall and lanky, he wore a red and black checkered sweater with dark jeans that hugged his legs. His face was long with piercing bronze eyes and his hair kicked out all over the place, it whisping around his ears and smothering his forehead, traveling down the nape of his neck. He was handsome at first glance but would his looks be deceiving just as Rick's had been?

"Please, have you seen my brother? He's a couple feet taller than me, he has-"

"Look kid, I haven't seen anyone other than cops around here. You might as well just…" his voice trailed off as his gaze shot past my face and landed on something in the distance. Before I could turn around, I could already heard the footsteps. "Quick, get in!" the young man scolded and, to my astonishment, he flung the door to his cell open, grabbed me and threw me into the corner behind the metal bed that hung from the wall.

"What the-?"

"Shut up, kid. Just stay there and don't say a single word." he warned me as he positioned himself like he was before, arms looped through the bars. Confused, I did as he said, not moving in the corner I was shoved into. Thoughts flooded though my mind. If the jail cell was unlocked, why was this young man remaining imprisoned by choice? He wasn't very old, when I had gotten near to his face, he appeared younger than 19. Possibly 17 or 18? Or maybe he was the type who was older than he appeared.

The foot steps got closer until the were right in front of the cell, I could tell. There was silence, the assumed police officer nor the young man who was in the cell with me spoke. Finally the was a horking sound and a groan and the foot steps disappeared down the hall of cells.

"What was that?" I asked in a whisper. The young man looked at me smugly as a smile crept across his striking face.

"I spit in that damned cop's face." he told me as he leaned against the wall, his lanky body relaxing.

"What'd you throw me in here for?" I asked, ignoring his smile. I was determined to find Soda and this guy was preventing me and eating my time.

"Why? You wanna bust outta here? Alright, kid, let's go." he toyed as if to test me, he gently thrust the cell door opening giving me a menacing yet playful smile. This guy was crazy. I got to my feet and slowly strolled down the hall once I was assured the cop had left.

"Soda?" I called out in a whisper. My mind slid back to Johnny, waiting outside but I was in no hurry for his sake. It was still early in the afternoon, the dusk was yet to come for some time. Finally, I had gotten to the end of the row of cells, my spirit of hope dwindling.

"Who's this Soda?" the young man asked, seeming without a worry. Didn't he know where he was? Wasn't he aware of his location?

"He's my brother." I snapped at him, my voice sharp. I was quite annoyed with this guy's happy-go-lucky spirit. While mine had gone hard and strict. Finally an prolonged moan came from the cell on my left. "Soda?" I asked desperately as I grasped the bars and rattled them.

"Yeah, its me." he heaved a sigh in melancholy, his eyes looking up at me in sorrow. He was sitting on the bed that hung from the wall, his head in his hands.

"C'mon, Soda lets get out of here! Johnny's outside, waiting!" I exclaimed, gripping tight onto the bars of his cell. He just shook his head and let out a bone chilling groan. Where had my cheerful brother gone? The metal was cold and stung as I tightened my palms around the cylinder shaped poles that confined my brother. Suddenly, a realization came to mind. I languidly glided the door open. His eyes grew wide at the sight.

"It wasn't even locked?" his voice seemed far away yet he embraced me at the door way.

Sodapop, I and the young man rushed down the hall leading to the rest of the police station.

"I guess we should get acquainted." I suggested as I lifted the hostility I held against the young man. "My name's Ponyboy Curtis." I said, extending my hand. The young man took it and shook it swiftly.

He offered me another one of his smug grins and said, "Jim Halsey."


	11. Left behind

**Some Johnny whoompage was requested so I hope this is good enough (;**

Jim was the young man's name. Although, he did not look like Jim, I'm not sure what he looked like but he was definitely not a Jim.

We crept through the halls of the police station, anxious a cop or an officer might spot us. But this place looked so deserted, I doubted there'd be enough people around to catch us. Once out from the cell room, there was a voice coming over a speaker, its muffled words buzzed out, we proceeded to follow the noise when we spotted a dog. A German Sheppard. It looked to us, its tongue hanging limp from its mouth and its ears bent back. It seemed to whimper, but nothing was for certain. We froze on the spot and let the dog pass.

"Should we follow it?" Jim asked in a whisper. Unsure, I looked to Soda and he nodded.

Walking slowly into another room after the distressed dog, the buzzing voice continued as the phone began to ring. This room was the office. There was an eerie silence that lingered in the air, almost as if death had visited the room, taking souls as it left. Taking souls to the fiery abyss. As Sodapop and Jim stayed behind at the doorway, I went on, following the whimpering dog. It stopped behind a desk and began to lick something, or someone, I grew curious and it got the best of me. Slowly, I crept towards the dog, peering around the desk a sight of horror revealed itself. I jolted back letting out a yelp. The officer that arrested Soda, falsely imprisoning him, was lying against the wall, blood splattered against it as blood was also stained on his neck and soaked his shirt. Its foul stench rose up and stung my nose as I continued to frantically yell. Rick had been here. I was sure of it.

"What?" Soda asked, uneasily. Ignoring him, I turned to my left and, just like the first cop, the younger one was wedged between a table and the wall, blood smeared across his chest. Fear-stricken, I took off to run but a sight of dismay caught my eye. Something I wish I never would've witnessed. A young man, a teenager, was lying against the wall, scarlet red blood stained the side of his face and his blue jean jacket. His jet black hair had fallen into his eyes and covered the top half of his tanned face. _Oh no_. My heart dropped to the floor, shattering into a million pieces as everything suddenly began to spin. The floor, the walls, the ceiling, everything whirled around me and a seemingly lifeless Johnny. I fell to my knees and scrambled towards the reddened body.

"Johnny!" I screamed, grabbing him and shaking him as my own body began to tremble uncontrollably. Soon, Soda and Jim were at my side. Johnny must've came in to find me. The blood from his jacket began to leave stains on my own but I ignored it, I didn't care. Calling his name, a rush of thoughts overflowed my mind. _I never should have left him out there alone, what was I thinking? This is it, Johnny's dead, I cant believe I let this happen. All this time I've been worried about what he'll do if I died and now it him who's dead. Oh God, what am I going to do? _The sound of police car sirens jolted me back to reality as they sounded from outside and I could feel the cold sweat beads trickle down my face. Thinking fast, I grabbed the gun the rested in the dead officer's hand and followed Jim out, Soda trailing behind me, Johnny slung over his shoulder.

We scrambled out the back door of the station just as the police were coming through the front. We took to the hills, three greasers and a young criminal. Making our way up and around the mountains and through the valley, we walked in silence. The blood on my shirt remained in the corner of my eye as my forever trembling body went on. The gun lay limp in my hand. Finally, Soda stopped as he lay Johnny on the dirt ground of the valley that we had been walking in for a while. It never seemed to end. Johnny's eyes were shut yet his mouth remained slightly open. I started to panic, assuming what Soda was about to do next as he took the gun from my hand.

"Soda, no!" I hollered at him, grabbing him by the sleeve of his jacket. He looked at me, not with eyes of annoyance but of melancholy and hopelessness.

"Do you want him to suffer? Face it, Pony, Johnny's half dead. Look at him!" he scolded with sadness. I fell down to my knees and grabbed Johnny by his shoulders. Soda was right, he did look half dead but that didn't mean that he was going to die. The gash in the side of his head was major but his blood soaked shirt was heaving up and down. He was still breathing, he was still alive.

"He's still alive, Soda!" I proclaimed, gesturing to Johnny's heaving chest. Soda just buried his face in his hand, deciphering the situation, deciding to leave Johnny in pain or to put him out of his misery.

"For God's sakes, the kid's dying! If you guys wont shoot him, I will!" Jim cut in, snatching the gun from Soda's grip. No, nobody was going to kill Johnny. Not that sick bastard Rick, not Soda, not Jim, _no one_. Rage shot through me as I shoved Jim, grasping his shoulders with my nails and knocking the gun to the ground.

"No one is going to kill him! Alright? You're not going to shoot him to 'put him out of his misery' or to 'end his pain', he's going to live! Don't you fuckin' try to tell me otherwise, he's going to live! He's going to live!" I exploded as I broke down, my word 'live' coming out as a high pitched wail. Soda grabbed me and pulled me close to him, burring his face in my dust filled hair.

"Shh, Pony. Don't worry, we aint gonna kill Johnny." he whispered, his lips catching on my hair. I relaxed in my brother's arms, everything felt much brighter. When he pulled out if the embrace, his eyes told me there was more to come. His eyes that had once danced and were carefree now held an oppression and were filled with sorrow and darkness. "You realize what this means, don't you?" he asked me, his bottom lip quivering. I shook my head, I had no idea what this was supposed to mean. "Johnny needs help and we all cant be running around like this…I'll go get Johnny help…but you and Jim have to keep going…"

"Keep going where?"

"Anywhere…anywhere but home. Rick is following us, no we cant bring him home. We have to go in the opposite direction."

"Well where do you expect me to go?"

"Somewhere highly populated. We've got to loose him somewhere."

"California…" I muttered, my voice sounding far away. Soda's suggestion didn't fully sink in until he slung Johnny over his shoulder again and turned to leave. "Wait! We cant split up!" I protested. Soda gave me an apologetic look as he rested his free hand on my shoulder.

"We have to, alright? If there's anything I've ever been sure of in my life is that if we don't do this, that man will kill us. He will find us and, just like he said, he will cut off our legs and our arms and our heads." he urged, his teeth clenched as his grip tightened on my shoulder. His eyes bored into mine until there were tears welling up in my eyes and blurring my vision. No matter how much Soda chided me, I couldn't come to reason. All I knew was that I couldn't do this alone.

"Don't leave me Sodapop, please don't leave me!" I entreated as I wrapped my hands around his arm as knees weakened, my voice wailing. He couldn't leave me, not now.

"I have to, Ponyboy. We'll meet up again. Don't worry, this isn't goodbye. Just 'see you soon.'" he assured me as he gently pulled my hands from his arms. "Take care of my brother, Jim." Soda said trustingly to him. Jim nodded with understanding. And that's when Soda took off, Johnny hanging seemingly lifeless from his shoulder.

"Sodapop!" I screamed as I began to fall to my knees but Jim caught me, wrapping his arms around mine.

"You're going to see him again, Ponyboy. Don't worry." he soothed but his words were nothing. As I watched Soda hike away into the mountains, I wiped my tears away with the back of my hand. That was the last I would see of my brother and my friend. I was sure of it.


	12. Head For The Highway

**Sorry for the confusion, I accidentally uploaded chapter 4 last time instead of chapter 12. I fixed it now so, I present to you: Chapter 12!**

While I was sure to never see my brother or my friend ever again, I had to move on. Jim urged me to get up, yanking me by the arms to my feet. I carried the gun with me, I wasn't going to just leave it. After trudging through the never ending valley, we came to a lonely gas station, the dust swirling around it like a torpedo, the station stuck out like a sore thumb as cars zoomed by it.

"For God's sake, kid, put that gun away, willya?" Jim scolded as we approached the side of the road. I obeyed. Once we reached the gas station, I hurriedly shoved myself into the phone booth, eager to call…? Who was I to call? I couldn't call the police, I couldn't call Darry, I couldn't call anyone. I stood there in a daze, my grip loosening on the phone as it slipped gently to the ground. The sound of a car engine made me whirl around, the sight of a cop car met me. How could they've found us so fast? We'd walked for nearly an hour! These police weren't going to take me away, I made sure of it. Flying out of the phone booth, I started yelling as I aimed the gun at the two police men.

"STOP!" I screeched, my body trembling as my arms held the gun out in their direction.

"Jeez, kid. What're you doing?" Jim exclaimed from behind me but I ignored him. He hadn't been through anything compared to me. He had no right to question my actions. He may have been my elder but he had no experience.

Leaving off from my outburst, I ordered the police who were at my mercy. "Get over by the car.". The police men complied with frightened expressions and their hands up in surrender. "Those cuffs on your belt…take them off and lock your partner's hand behind his back." I instructed, my breath staggering and my whole body trembling. The weapon of destruct shook in my grasp.

"You mean me?"

"No, I mean you." I snapped, gesturing to the younger cop.

"Me?" he asked.

"YOU, YES YOU!" I roared, letting myself explode. It was true. I had lost my sanity. After witnessing more deaths in a day than I had my whole life, I could no longer hold it together. I was loosing my mind, it'd only be a matter of time before it was totally lost.

The officers did as I commanded, the control I had over these men was bitter-sweet tasting. Although, I was minorly shocked that these men were taking orders from a 14 year old kid. I guess bullets talk. "Alright," I started. "Now, you two get in the front and we'll get in the back." I stated as I grabbed Jim's arm with my free hand and yanked him forward. It was surprising how I could pull someone much older than me, much stronger than me. I supposed rage gives you strength.

The younger cop fumbled with the car door, he was squandering my time. It'd only be a matter of minutes before another car whizzed by and spotted the scene. "GET IN THE CAR!" I thundered again. Intimidated now, they hurried themselves along. Once they were inside, I instructed for Jim to do the same. But he simply refused.

"You're insane. I'm already being charged, I don't need this to be added to my record as well." he protested, shaking his head.

"You got a better idea? Huh? You heard what my brother said, this man will kill us."

"What man?"

"I don't have time to explain. Just get in the car, would you?" I snapped. Without any further words from his mouth, he reluctantly got in. Alas, we were all within the car, I held the gun to the younger policeman's head, burying its nose in his coffee coloured hair. "Head for the highway." I demanded. I heard a stifled chuckle escape from Jim's nostrils. Was it pathetic what I was doing? After all, it did sound like a cheesy crime movie, the way I had given him my instructions. Was he amused by the fact that this 14 year old nothing from Tulsa thought he could get what he wanted? Did I even know what I wanted? When I ordered them to head for the highway, I had one thing in mind - getting home. But Soda's warning echoed in my head and my mind swiftly changed. Suddenly, an idea struck me.

"Can you call out on that thing and get me connected to someone in charge?" I asked, gesturing to the call out radio once the car was well in motion. I didn't lower my gun but my tone was warmer.

"I'll try to get through to Caption Esteridge." the officer replied as he picked up the devise.

"But don't tell anyone where we are." I warned him, the coldness returning in my voice.

The officer began to talk, "Central, this is-"

"I said don't tell him anything!" I cut him off with a retort, shoving the nose of the gun harder against the back of his skull. After a moment passed, he tried again.

"Central, this is one of your cars and we've been hijacked my 'suspect'. He wishes to speak to Captain Esteridge directly, over." Suspect. That was me. The suspect. Soda's assumed crimes had now been passed down to me. How did I ever get in such a disarray?

"This is Caption Esteridge, do you read? Over." a voice came over the radio and I slowly lowered the gun. Taking a gulp of air, I reached forward and sullenly took the devise from the officer's hand. Jim eyed me with curiosity as I put the devise to my mouth.

"Cap'n, this is Ponyboy Curtis. You gotta listen to me, Caption. I _swear_ I didn't kill those people. I got set up and framed by this guy I picked up hitch hiking." I pleaded with the voice. I could see the two officer's faces turn to shock in the car mirror along with Jim's. Anyone would be stunned by my story. I awaited the caption's answer.

"What do you suggest we do, son?" his southern voice came out muffled over the radio.

"C'mon, man, you tell me." I wailed into the devise.

"Why don't you stop things right now. Just let my men go and give yourself up."

"I don't have any identification, I don't have any proof." I replied. Soda had all my identification in his own wallet. _"For safe keeping."_ he had told me. What a joke.

"Are you willing to lay down your arms and surrender, I promise you I'll do everything in my power to see to it that you're treated fairly."

"I'm putting my trust in you, Caption…I surrender." I muttered, my voice calm. Finally, the mayhem was coming to an end. Everything was like that of a dream. Leaving Soda, threatening the police officers, talking to the caption, surrendering. It all felt unreal, like I was to awake any moment and Darry would call us in for breakfast. I just couldn't seem to wake up.


	13. So long, Jim Halsey

**Hey now, I'm not sure if you guys checked the last chapter but I updated it (I accidentally posted chapter 4 instead of chapter 12). So I fixed it and I didn't get any feed back from it so I'm not sure if anyone went back to check and read it. Anywho, if you didn't read it then, before you read this one, I suggest you go back and read that one because this would make no sense at all xD Also, this chapter might be a little short, sorry. **

The roaring of another engine pulled along side us. I only had a moment's first glance at the all too familiar navy blue truck before gun shots were fired through the officer's windows. Bloodshed commenced as the older officer's head was blown to pieces through the other window and the driving officer's arms were squirting up blood like a fountain. Panic-stricken, I began to scream, oh boy did I holler. I threw myself forward to grab the wheel, the officer's lifeless bodies collapsed on top of me, smearing their blood on my clothing. The event began to go blurry, I don't remember every detail. But there was one thing I can assure you of;

There was blood.

Lots of blood, the scarlet filth was everywhere.

And there was yelling, shouting. My vocals cracking with every horror-filled screech as Jim's voice did the same. Only once did my eyes venture from the road to peer at the fire armed man who drove the truck beside us. Although, I didn't need to look. I already knew. But despite my knowledge, my eyes took control and I was glaring right at Rick, the wind messing with his strawberry blonde hair. Like I've said before, he was handsome. But this would be the first time that I was mesmerized by him. His devilish grin, his menacing eyes. They captured me, putting me into a daze. It wasn't until the police car started to spiral out of control that in realized Jim was no longer screaming as I still was. Letting the car halt onto the side roads, I turned back to look at him. Nothing could've prepared me for the sight I witnessed.

Jim lay, his head leaned against the window, his checkered shirt splattered with blood and his teeth stained with the crimson filth. His eyes were wide open but unlike Johnny's chest, Jim's was barely moving. Some of the bullets must've rebounded and hit him.

"No!" I screamed with tears gathering in my eyes, I pushed the officer's blood stained bodies off of me and crawled out of the vehicle, resisting both urges to cry and the other to vomit. Was this the type of scene Soda had seen in the car earlier?

I opened the passenger door and yanked Jim out, his body limp and seemingly lifeless. I hadn't known Jim for long. We weren't close friends, just two young men caught up in crime and in the clutches of a vile man named Rick Judgar. I sat with my head in my hands, wailing loudly.

"No! Nooooo! No, no, no, no!"

Jim was all I had left. I crawled over to him and gripped him by the shoulders.

"Don't die, Jim. Please,…please don't leave me here alone. Jim, please!" I cried out, my voice pained and tears streaming down my face like a river. I needed him. It was a moment of despair, I was going irrational. The thoughts that came through were:

_If I'm going to die, then it will not be by Rick's will._

Thinking myself alone now, I took the gun from my jacket and with trembling hands, I rested it at my neck, it's barrel pointing up, under my chin. I was ready to pull the trigger when a low registered gurgle came from behind me.

"Don't, kid." it's voice whispered. In an instant, I dropped the gun and scrambled over to Jim. "Don't do it." he managed to say, his voice raspy. He struggled for air and he coughed, blood stained his teeth and his lips.

"Jim, please. You cant die now!" I wailed again, gripping his shoulder. Slightly, he shook his head.

"So that's your story, huh?" he asked.

"Huh?"

"The hitch hiker. I know him well."

"You know Rick?"

"Sure I do. He's the bastard who set me up."

"He what?" my voice rose up. But Jim's eyes refused to stay open and they slowly but gently closed. He didn't answer me. "Jim, how did he set you up?". No answer. "Jim?" My bottom lip started to quiver as I realized his chest was no longer heaving up and down. "Jim?" I asked again, but this time, my voice was shaky and I was crying. The scene fell silent, the only sounds were the mountainous winds howling through and it's dust being swooshed around. Jim lay lifeless in front of me, his checkered shirt tarnished with his scarlet blood. I called his name one more time before I confirmed his casualty. His mouth remained open as a streak of blood dribbled down his jaw.

Jim Halsey was dead.


	14. So help me, I'll blow you in half!

What now? That was the question. I sat, cradling Jim's lifeless body as death approached us, lifting Jim's soul from his body and carrying it away into the mountains. I was alone. Jim's body turned suddenly cold and I felt a certain disgust as I let go of him. I snatched the gun that almost ended my life before and fell to my knees, placing the nose of the gun under my chin once again. I didn't want to live anymore. Not like this. The metal was cold on my skin as I cocked the gun.

Life or death?

That was the new question.

I let my eyes gently close as I stiffened my body, ready for the impact of the bullet. A ray of sunshine beamed over me, causing me to cease. What was I waiting for? I suppose, on some level, I never thought I'd die as young as 14, let alone it being by my own will. I never believed myself that I wanted to die. Its just something that I told myself, without meaning it. Slowly, the sun ray liberating my body, I let go of the gun and knelt forward on my knees, a whimper escaping my lips. I let my mess of reddish-brown hair brush against the sand-like dust of the side road as I let out a immersed breath. That ray of sunlight persuaded me to choose life.

After walking for what seemed an eternity, I found myself at a lonely diner, the sign read; _Roy's Café_. At that point, I will admit I was delirious. I had started going insane when I stumbled upon Rick at the abandoned barn, my insanity continuing to slip when he nearly killed us at the gas station. I had been counting my near death encounters, and at the moment, I was at #6. The knife incident when this mayhem begun, witnessing the murder of the young girl and her family, nearly being run over at the gas station, our car being hit from the rear by Rick's truck, the murder of the two officers at the police station and Johnny's wounds, and finally; nearly being shot by Rick in the incident that killed Jim and the other two officers. Six escapes from death, someone in heaven must have favoured me.

When I stumbled into the café, there was an elderly man seated behind the counter, he eyed me with a look of interest. I guess I looked pretty bad, the blood from Jim and the officers smeared across my shirt. Quickly, I zipped up my jacket.

"Well, what happened to you?" he asked, seeming to enjoy the company of another human. The place was deserted. I gave him the same look back and a sick grin.

"Nothing, nothing at all." I toyed with the man.

"Nothing?" he carried it on, his greyed eye brows shooting up.

"Nothing happened." I paused a couple seconds before speaking again. "I need some coffee." Coffee? I was being stalked by a murderer and all I could ask for was a damn cup of coffee! I could've told the man exactly what was going on and ask him for help but no! I had to ask for my stupid coffee!

He simply grinned. "Its brewin'." Miraculously, I was able to keep my cool while I was screaming on the inside, I slowly headed towards the seating area.

"Bring it to me in one of the booths." I instructed the man.

"You sure you're ok, kid?" the man asked about my well being again. There was no point in lying, he may have been old but he wasn't stupid.

"No." I replied deadpan as I slipped into one of the booths. I sat with my face in my hands, my fingers reaching up and running though my dust-filled hair. I must have looked lousy without my hair greased back. To have my hair style, you had to grow your hair out. So when I didn't have grease in my hair, it was pretty long and shaggy. It probably made me look younger and vulnerable. Or possibly older and rougher. After all, I had been scuffed up and roughed up since I washed myself at the Longhorn restaurant, where that young woman Nash had let us in out of pity. Its ironic, the things I thought of while I waited for my coffee. That's why I was taken off guard when a throat was cleared from across the table, more of a grunt than a clearing. I jerked my hands away from my face as my eyes widened.

It was him.

"How do like shit smell?" is all asked, grinning smugly at me yet taunting me with his menacing eyes. In the heat of the moment, I grabbed the gun from my jacket and pointed it at him under the table. All my other encounters with Rick, I was terrified. Now, I was boiling with rage. Rick just grinned at me thinking nothing of it until I started to shake with my anger, his grin slowly faded as he realized what was happening. Like I said before, I had gone irrational. My morals seemed to be lost. A crazy smirk was pasted on my face as my breath faltered with my trembling body.

"Don't you move…you stay seated right where you are." I hissed, my chest heaving with every breath. "Or I'll blow your brains through your ass." I could shoot this man. I really could. Rick bent over and took a look under the table. When he came back up, a wicked grin crept across my face but Rick simply chuckled.

"That gun is empty."

"Yeah?" I taunted, refusing to believe it was true. Nothing he could say could wipe the crazy grin off my face.

"Yeah." he mocked.

"Yeah?" I laughed again, my smile turning toothy and my voice wailing up.

"Yeah." Rick then confirmed in seriousness. That's when my grin fell right off and my breath caught in my throat. Had I been carrying an unloaded gun? That couldn't of been. He had to be bluffing. How would Rick know, anyway? It wasn't _his _gun…was it? I thought back to when I had obtained the gun. I had when Jim was killed, I had it when we hijacked the police car, I had it when Soda and Johnny left me, I had it when…

Oh my God. It was Rick's gun. But how could that be? The hammer clicked when I cocked it before, that meant it was loaded. Or maybe I had been watching too many westerns, who knew, but I refused to accept that the gun was empty.

"You didn't check it, did you…" he sneered, his question coming out more like a statement.

"So help me, I'll blow you in half!" I got worked up, tightening my grip on the gun I held under the table. Rick didn't seem to be intimidated at all. Why should he? I was just some crazy 14 year old. But he wouldn't be laughing when there was a bullet up his ass.

"Alright, squeeze the trigger." Rick provoked me in a whisper, an invitation to end his life hanging on every word.

"Oh I will." I assured him, my bizarre grin returning to my face, I welcomed the trembling of my body. I was going to enjoy this. Suddenly, we weren't in a coffee shop anymore. We were alone on the top of one of the towering mountains. Just me, him and the nose of my gun aimed for his head.

"Go ahead, kid, take your best shot. Squeeze the trigger." he hissed. "'Cause you can sure as shit bet I'm gonna squeeze mine." He leaned forward and his arm rest firmly under the table as did mine. I started to panic, he had a gun. And I had no doubt he would shoot it. For three moments of terror, my eyes remained wide, my body frozen. The table shook with a thud to it, and like a reflex, I shot the gun. I shot and shot and shot. But nothing happened. Nothing but this hollow clicking noise.

No! How could it have been empty all this time? I squeezed my eyes shut and let my jacket swallow me up as I leaned back against the booth, still pulling my finger on the trigger. Rick just sat there and smiled like he felt sorry for me. The bastard was bluffing the whole time, he had nothing but his bare hand under the table, no weapon was in sight.

"Why are you doing this to me?" I demanded, my voice going hoarse. I was vulnerable now, I had nothing to defend myself with. All I could do was beg for mercy. And by the look in his hazel eyes, I knew I'd have to do some pretty good begging.

He rose from his seat, reaching across the table, he grabbed me by the front of my shirt and drew me close to him. I leaned my face away from him, terrified of what he might do. _He's gonna slice me_, I thought as he reached into his pocket. _He's gonna stick me with his knife and leave me here to die_. But instead of pulling a knife from his pocket, he pulled out a coin, a penny. He stuck it on my right eye, pulled out another one and did the same to my left. Holding my face, he then whispered:

"You're a smart kid…figure it out."


	15. I'm not a killer

**Hey guys, many thanks for the reviews. A lot of you were upset about Jim dying and, trust me, I was upset too. I really didn't want to kill him but I had to, in order for the story to work out. I'm sorry! xD Anyway, hoping you'll enjoy chapter 15! Wow, 15 already. **

Stunned. The emotion paralyzed me, causing me to just let Rick walk away. I let the pennies fall from the crevice of my brow and eye lid so that they clattered on the table. Once I opened my eyes, I saw that Rick had left a piece of cloth on the table in front of me, it seemed to be the outer wrapping of an item. Had he given me something? Why would he want to help me? Why would he want to give me hope when he would surely kill me in the end? Because he was ruthless, that's why. With a trembling hand, I gently unwrapped the cloth to reveal six bullets, they sat there so peacefully like they could never cause destruct. Why would he give me these? Out of pity? I didn't want anything he gave me. But the bullets, I needed them. In spite of myself, I fumbled, wrapping them up again and stuffing them into my pocket. The roar of an engine pulled up outside and there was a bus there, letting its passengers off for a rest stop. _Here's my chance_, I thought. I flew out of the booth, almost running right into the old man. His expression looked slightly hurt that I was leaving. He held a cup of coffee in his hand yet he said nothing.

"I'm sorry, I…I have to go." I told him, trying to be comforting. I didn't wait for a reaction, I took off. A saddened old man was the least of my problems. As I darted out the door, I abruptly changed my pace to a gentle stride, the passengers eyeing me suspiciously. I rounded the bus, making it seem as if I was leaving, but I made my way back to the door of the bus, the driver had left it open. What a fool, he sat inside the diner, stuffing his face while I hoped onto the bus. This was my chance to get back home. But what about Sodapop and Johnny? What would become of them? _Soda's smart_, I thought as I made my way down the isles of the bus. _He'll get them to safety_. Cautious of myself, I shoved myself into the enclosed restroom of the bus. Inside, I snapped the cover of the toilet down, good God, it reeked. The enclosed bathroom was small, my hair brushed against the roof of it. My hands began to tremble with my whole body as I reached into my pocket and took out the bullets, wrapped in cloth. With my other hand, I pulled out the empty gun, the metal was cool in my hand. My breath started to stagger, it going rapidly out of control with the thought of what my next action would be. Before, I had just assumed the gun to be loaded. Now, I would know.

I groped the gun, concentrating on how to open it to load it. I had been hunting with my dad and my brothers before, but the guns we used then were very different from the one I held now. I continued to fumble with the gun in my grasp, my brisk heaving had calmed down to a gentle breath exhaled every couple seconds. Finally, as I pressed down on the trigger and pulled the hammer up, the cylinder that held the bullets, rolled out. Slowly yet steadily, I dropped the bullets into place, one by one. Just as I dropped the last bullet in place, a sound from outside the enclosed restroom caused me to jump. The passengers had returned from the diner. Alarmed, I stood frozen and quieted my breathing. Moments passed and the bus had began to move, its loud engine thundering. My first thought was to keep myself hidden in the restroom until all the passengers had left. But that would be irrational, I had no idea where the bus was headed. Like I said before, I wasn't quite thinking straight at this point. Rick had muddled with my mind. And besides, I don't think I could've handled much more of that foul stench. You wouldn't believe how much it smelt like a sewer.

Gingerly, I descended from the rest room, careful not to make a clutter, and flew into one of the back seats. Darting my eyes around to assure myself that no one had witnessed, I relaxed into my seat. Somehow the factor that I was unaware of where the bus was going didn't bother me much. I was just content to know that I was out of the open and Rick would never suspect where I was. Or could he? He seemed to find me everywhere else I went. As I gazed out the window, I visualized Rick's face. His flickering eyes, his wispy hair. His menacing smile, his high cheek bones, the way the water had dripped from his nose like a faucet when we first picked him up that night. That night. Why had I been so stupid and naive? Both Johnny and Soda had warned me about this man. And I hadn't listened. If only I had taken heed to their words. If only we hadn't stopped for him. If only we hadn't even seen him. If only he had never been born. If only…

I was so absorbed in my own thoughts that I hadn't noticed the figure coming down the isle. My stomach flopped and my eyes slightly widened. _Oh no, not again_, I begged inwardly. _Please say he hasn't found me yet_. I shivered in my seat, it just wasn't fair. I couldn't get away from the man for long before he was back on my case.

But to my relief, it was a figure of a woman. Something about her face, her body that struck me as familiar. I cowered away from her into the seat until, finally, I placed her. Nash! It was Nash! How had I not known before? The woman was Nash! With one swift motion, I flew from my seat, grabbed her by the arms and pulled her into the bathroom with me. What I was doing, I had no idea. I guess I just wanted to prove that neither me nor Soda were killers. Of course, once Soda left us to go get help for Johnny, I was assumed as 'suspect'. The crimes had been passed from Rick, to Soda, to now me.

Nash struggled with me, grunting, trying to push me away but I had my hand over her mouth and had a firm grip on her arms. We were both breathing heavily, I couldn't get her under control. Without thinking, I pulled the gun from my jacket and threatened her with it. This wasn't like me at all. I barely talked to girls, let alone threatened to kill them. But then again, I hadn't been acting like myself through this whole thing, why start now? Nash ceased her struggle at the sight of the gun, her golden blonde hair had fallen into her eyes. I hated to do this to her but it had to be done.

"I didn't do it. I didn't do any of it. Neither did Sodapop." I said firmly, yet my breath staggered. I held her gaze with my eyes and, hopefully, she believed what I was saying. Although, maybe pointing a gun at someone's head wasn't the best way to tell them you weren't a murderer. "I'm not gonna shoot anyone. I'm not killer." I pronounced as I dropped the gun onto the floor and slowly removed my hand from her mouth. For a slight moment, just a slight moment, she looked trustworthy of me.

"Since last night, this guy's been trying to kill me. He's been following me ever since. I don't know why." I confessed all this to her, the expression her face held, was just so painful to look at. Because I had this gut feeling that if I got involved with her, Rick would find a way to kill her. Just like he killed Jim. And how he tried to kill Johnny and Soda. It wasn't them he was after. It was me. Maybe he thought that making my life a living hell would break me and I would give up the fight to live. He might have been getting somewhere, he had caused me to consider suicide twice. But I knew, I'd never have the guts to end my own life.

I stood, holding onto Nash's arm, our chests heaving with every breath and me holding her gaze. It didn't occur to me that this was the closest I'd ever been to a girl. It didn't matter. I let a few moments pass before I spoke again. She must've been so confused.

"Do you believe me?" I asked, desperate for someone to trust me. She looked away from me, then back, her deep blue eyes slightly cautious. She took an immersed breath before giving me her answer. If she didn't believe me, I felt as if I just might die.

"Yeah…I do."


	16. When the truth comes down

Trust. It had become a rare thing. Something you wanted to stay away from. Especially for someone in my position. Because the minute you start to trust someone, me in particular, you seal your death. Just as Jim had done. He trusted me and ended up being murdered. And that's how I knew Nash would die. Because she was letting herself trust me. I hated knowing what I was getting her into. It was an odd thought, but, the contemplation entered my mind; _It would be a shame for someone so beautiful to die_.

Although her mouth said one thing, her eyes said another. She was doubting my words. And really, would wouldn't? My story was far fetched. If a man was to approach me and tell me the story, I don't think I'd believe him either. So what made me so different? But her words, she didn't truly trust me. I could see it.

"No you don't." I said flat out, my voice falling down into a mutter. "I wouldn't either." She stood there and eyed me, her face was unreadable. Her eyes were slowly changing, perhaps she really did believe me. I had to trust that she did. Trust. I shouldn't of trusted anyone, even Nash. But if I didn't, who else was there?

"Come on, lets go sit out." I suggested as I grasped her arm and we emerged from the restroom, collapsing in the seat I had taken before. She sat closest to the window, tapping her delicate fingers against the back of the chair. I was too exhausted to fumble with anything. I rest my head back and took in deep breaths, my chest slowly heaving up and down. I could smell the aroma from Nash's perfume, it drifted over me and seeped through my nose. It was sweet, however, that hardly describes it. I don't know why but, that was one thing I remember vividly. Nash's perfume. And I remember thinking, as I sat hopelessly in that chair_, I could just sit here forever. I don't need anything else. I could just sit here and enjoy this forever. _But I knew I couldn't. And the sound of wailing police sirens following us, reminded me of that.

To tell you the truth, I wasn't at all surprised when the sound came. I knew it had been too long without an obstacle. A ruckus begun in the bus about the noise, the humming of people's low mutters filled the bus.

"What're you going to do?" Nash asked, assuming the sirens were for me. What was I going to do? Now, that was an interesting question. I had been asking myself that for a day now. It was only a day but it felt like an eternity. It was only last night, Soda had fallen asleep at the wheel. It was only last night, my only concern was not having anyone to talk to on the road trip. It was only yesterday, I had hugged Darry goodbye. Maybe that would be good bye. Not for a month. But forever.

But back to that question; what was I going to do? There seemed only one option. I was going to do the only thing I could.

"Give up." I wasn't going to put up a fight. I had been fighting all this time. At that point, I didn't care. Cuff me, through me in jail. Sentence me to life. I threw all my cares to the wind, I just wanted it to be over. "I have no choice." Nash looked at me, her crystal blue eyes in distress. She wanted to say something, I knew she did. Her lips started to move but no words escaped them. I knew that feeling well.

I didn't wait for the police to raid the bus and force me off either. As soon as the bus stopped at the side road, I reluctantly rose from my seat and dragged myself down the isle and to the door, people's eyes boring into me.

When I reached the front window, police cars were there to meet me, four police men with scowling faces aiming their guns in my direction.

"Step down!" the sheriff yelled at me, his voice raspy. If I was going to give myself up, it would be at my own speed. Not theirs. Slowly descending down the steps, I tossed my gun to the dirt, a torpedo of dust rose up and was carried away by the wind from the gun's collapse. "Alright, step down!" the officer growled again. He did not lower his gun. I rose my arms up and placed them behind my head, submitting myself.

"I turn myself in." I called out, still behind the bus' open door. Not overly loud but strident enough for them to hear me.

"Get out from behind the door! Step away from the bus! Step down! MOVE!" his endless demands were getting on my nerves. And I was in no mood to be bothered. Couldn't he see I was helpless and vulnerable? I had tossed my gun and given myself up. What more did he want? Slowly, I descended from behind the door, peering at him through the dust-filled wind. I wont lie, it was intimidating, four men with their guns pointed at me. I had cheated death six times, why this would daunt me, I had no idea. Something told me, this was more than it seemed.

"Move your ass now!" he screamed at me, following my body with the nose of his gun.

"I'm giving up, but I'm not guilty." I said to the sky, my back facing the wind and causing my clothes to slap against my body and my hair to be tousled.

A prolonged silence commenced before any more words were exchanged. Referring to my encounter with Rick in the hijacked police car; "You just wasted two of my men, those were my friends." he hissed at me from under his 'ten gallon' hat and from behind that gun. If I were to take away that towering hat and threatening gun, there'd be nothing but a small, timid man who sought revenge. Somehow, he didn't scare me so much then.

I said nothing to the man but glared at him. Until he spoke again.

"You spit on my wrist."

"What?"

"You spit on my wrist. Wipe it off."

The bastard. He might not of appeared too bright but he was. I stood, my back facing the wind as I computed his words. Wiping his wrist would be a contact to him. In which he could shoot me and pass it off for self-defence. He must have been pretty proud of his scheme because it showed on his smug yet hostile face. I'm sure that must be hard to imagine but that's the only way I can describe it.

"You can see I'm unarmed." I protested. I wasn't about to take a bullet to the head. If he thought I would really go along with his plan, he must've been fanatical.

"Wipe it off!" he growled, not giving up. For him, this was personal, you could see it written across his face. He'd even said it in his own words; _you just wasted two of my men, those were my friends._

"C'mon, Lyle. Go easy on him!" the officer along side him cut in.

"Shut up!"

"Let's just take him back to the station and-"

"I said _shut up_!" That's when I realized, this man wasn't interested in bringing me to justice. Even if I wasn't guilty, he wanted to get even with me. A life for a life. He wanted me dead. Quite ironic, another man who wanted to take my life. I was no stranger to that.

"Wipe it off!" he urged again, he body slightly trembling with his rage.

"Put the gun down." I demanded. What a stupid thing to say. Instead of complying, he cocked the gun instead and cursed.

"Damn you." as he placed his finger on the trigger. He wouldn't. Not with the whole bus peering out the window at us. He wouldn't dare…would he?

There was a blast. A gun fire.

My whole body jumped, there seemed an impact on my body but no pain. The gun fire, in fact, had come from behind us and wasn't fired at my body. I was still alive, I let out a sigh of relief. Turning around, it was Nash, a gun in her hands that pointed to the sky. Glory, everyone seemed to have a gun around this town. I'll admit, for a slight moment, I thought she looked pretty good. Standing there at the foot of the bus, a gun in her hand. Kind of like a James Bond girl.

The officers were shocked, the sheriff in particular. Before he could spit anything out of his mouth, she was yelling, smoke fuming from her gun. "Drop your guns! Don't turn around, just drop them!". Reluctantly, their weapons were dropped and hit the dust with a thud. In spite of myself, a diminutive smile crept across my face. She really did believe me. After so long, it felt so good to be trusted. And to be defied for. "I cant believe you were gonna do what you were gonna do." she whimpered, her voice wavering.

The sheriff gave her a look before jabbing his finger in my direction and hollering; "Don't you know who he is?"

"You got the wrong man, Lyle." She growled, cocking her gun.

"Now, just settle down and-"

"Don't you come any closer." Nash cut him off, jolting the gun slightly. The sheriff must've thought this was a joke. And, quite frankly, it was. Two teenagers trying to command them around, he must've gotten quite a kick out of it. Giving her a sinister grin, he lunged towards her.

"Give me that gun!" Like a warning, she fired at the dirt ground, just inches from his feet.

"I said don't come any closer!" she screeched. Man, she could really hold her own. Seizing the opportunity, I trusted myself forward and made a grab for the guns that lay in the dust, at the sheriff's feet.

"Just empty them. We're in enough trouble already." Nash advised me. At first glance, you would think that Nash was just a pretty girl, oblivious to matters other than the essential teenage girl. But I saw now, that she was much more.

"You just threw your life down the toilet." the sheriff shook his head with disapproval. He was right. She shouldn't of helped me. She should've stayed in that bus. Now, she was not only a victim to Rick but she had ruined her reputation. But she wasn't one to sit back and take anyone's crap. She stood up for what she thought was right. Even if it would cost her.

"When the truth comes down…I'll be just fine." she retorted to him, her southern twang standing out in her voice.

Once I was finished with emptying the guns I got to my feet to join her as she headed towards the police car. Still aiming her gun at the sheriff, she backed up to the car, telling the officers we were taking over.

"Lets go." she called to me as she reached for the passenger door. "Lets go!" she shouted again. As I took my seat behind the wheel once again, my minute grin remained. We may have hijacked another car and it may not have been over, but we were getting somewhere. I could feel it.


	17. Car chase

**I apologize if this isn't my best work. It was a little rushed, time was kind of short this week so I didn't really have a lot of time to perfect this. I did try my hardest though.**

As we pulled away in the car, I felt a certain uneasiness. Almost as if we were being watched. To assure myself, I whipped my head around, peering out all of the windows through the dust at anyone who might be a spectator. More specifically, Rick. Although, the region was so mountainous and dusty, I couldn't see a thing even if I tried.

"Keep your eyes on the road!" Nash urged, paranoid.

"Why'd you do it?" I asked, out of the blue as the car trudged on in a dazed silence.

"Do what?"

"Why'd you help me? I could've handled everything."

She scoffed at that, showing me that she doubted it. It was true, I did need her help. But I was not going to admit it.

"Nonetheless, you didn't have to help me. You could've just let them take me away…" my voice faded with desolation. She heaved a sigh, her perfume again sweeping over me.

"Because I know what's right and what isn't. And I can tell you, what Lyle did back, just wasn't right."

"I appreciate it…really, I do. But you have no idea what you just got yourself into." I cautioned her, keeping my eyes locked on the road. It was only right to warn her. I wasn't about to spill the whole dirty story but she had a right to know. _What a fool_, I thought with pity. _She should've stayed in the bus. _Nash, she was bright. But she really hadn't thought out her decision, I could tell.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she snapped, her voice filled with southern twang. The sound of police sirens following us and the fuzz of the call-out radio drowned out the silence and prevented me from answering. "Do you know how to use the radio?" she inquired, gesturing to it. Her short golden hair flew about as she swung her torso around, keeping an eye on the road behind us. This was no place for her. I had been doing just fine all along, I didn't need her to slow me down. I wasn't a male chauvinist but I knew where a woman belonged. And here was not one of the options.

"Look, I better let you out here." I told her, leaving her question unanswered.

"No! If I'm in the car with you, they're not gonna hurt you! We can contact them by radio!" she resisted, taking the radio in her hand. She was really starting to irritate me. Couldn't she get the hint?

"Oh yeah? And what're you gonna say?" I retorted, pushing my foot slightly down hard onto the gas.

"That we're gonna turn ourselves in!"

"I tried that, you saw how it worked." I shot back, with evidence to my words.

"Just let me try!"

Seeing no use in arguing with her, I simply did not reply. In the rear view mirror, police cars were approaching. Why run? The contemplation entered my mind, it was reasonable thought. Why were we running? We did nothing wrong. Well, maybe that was stretching the truth a bit. In trying to escape false judgement, I had broken laws. I'd escaped from jail, hijacked two police cars, held two officers at gun point and hitched a ride on a bus that I did not pay for. But I did not murder. The one thing I had been accused of, was the one thing I was innocent of.

Detecting the police cars, Nash began to talk into the radio. "Hello, do you read me? We're turning ourselves in! We're turning ourselves in, do you read me?" The police cars trailing behind us did not cease nor did they reply. Only the muffled voices of other officers came over the radio. Nash tried again, but again received no reply. Pushing my foot down even harder on the gas, we were going 95.

"Listen to me this time, we're turning ourselves in! Can you read me? We just want to turn ourselves in!" she screeched, facing back. Reaching the point of total annoyance, I grabbed the radio from her and flung it at the car floor.

"It's no use, cant you see that?" I raised my voice over the roaring engine. Suddenly, a voice came over the radio, a new voice.

"That's a good speed." it said, a male's voice was muffled. Only being able to quiz the statement for a moment, the bang of a gun fire was shot at the back window, causing me to push down even more on the gas, going 105.

"Shit! Get down!" I shouted to Nash over the chaos. Soon, the police cars were pulled up beside us, doing the same speed, the wind wiped through the car.

"Get the gun! Fire!" I commanded her, my voice raping with every scream.

"No! I'm not gonna shoot anyone!"

"Just aim for the tires or something!"

"No!"

"If you don't shoot, I will." And I would. I knew I would. She knew it too as she grabbed it, trembling, and aimed it out the window. "Shoot it!" I screamed again but she wouldn't comply. Another shot was fired right near my window, shattering the rear view mirror. "They're gonna kill us! Shoot it!" I screamed again. Still, Nash did nothing but hold the gun out the window.

"I cant." she sounded on the verge of tears. But this was no place to break down.

"Please, for the love of God, please just shoot it!" Multiple shots were fired at the car, the bumper falling completely off and the head and back lights shattering on the pavement. Keeping my head low, I continued to speed the car, shouting at Nash.

"Shoot back!" On my final command, a gun fire rang through my ears, I was almost certain it came from our revolver. Feeling slightly better, I sped the car up even more to it's maximum speed. Seemingly shocked, Nash rolled up the window and leaned in close to my ear.

"I dropped the gun…" her voice quivered as her breath was hot on my cheek. It took only a moment for her words to seek in and my eye brows to shoot sky high. Panic surged through me.

"You what?" I demanded, my eyes wide and my voice raspy. What had she done? I knew I should've let her out. Even more stunned now, I wiped my head backward and forward, the cars were soon all parallel with ours, one on Nash's side and one on mine. With one final shot, my door was swept off to the side, in my shock, I was even more exposed now. Somehow, I wasn't afraid to die. I had assumed I would die by Rick's will but the way things were shaping out, I may have been wrong. These policemen were set out to kill me, I knew my time was up when the police car on my side took out a rifle and aimed it for my leg. Thinking fast, a light went off in my head and, like a reflex, I shouted for Nash to hold on and slammed down on the breaks.

Instead of the shot being fired at me, the officer shot at the other car's tire and they collided, spinning and falling on top of each other in front of us. The car fuming, I rested my forehead down on the steering wheel and moaned. "Are you ok?" I murmured to Nash. She confirmed. "Look, I think you better get out now. You're gonna get yourself killed." I said softly yet a certain hardness was held in my voice. She simply shook her head.

"And go where? We're in the middle of nowhere."

"So you'd rather get yourself killed?" There was something inside me that told me this wasn't it. There was more to come, I'd been playing this game long enough to know that.

"What difference does it make? This is practically a desert." I looked up from the steering wheel and she was right. "Just drop me off at the next gas station, alright?" Silently, I started the car and urged it to trudge on, my insides twisting.

It was almost as if I was waiting for Rick, I knew he wouldn't let someone else have all the pleasure in torturing us. He needed to get his playtime in too. But I had to make it to California. Then, at last, I could rid myself of Rick and move on.

Let me tell you, waiting for an attack, or possible death, is stressful. You're more fearful knowing it will happen than you are while its happening. As we lead up a hill, like clockwork, a helicopter appeared as a gun was fired at the ground in front of us. Nash let out a blood-curling scream, but as for me, I was ready for the challenge. Rick's appearances had become less and less unexpected and less surprising. Looking up to the helicopter windshield, I was astonished. The face was not that of Rick's, but that of a police officer. My eyes flickered at the car window and three more police cars were trailing behind us. It looked like Rick wouldn't make an appearance after all.

I pushed my foot down on the gas, but the car had been so badly beaten and battered, the thing barely drove. Gun shots were fired from the helicopter, causing the truck lid to snap open and a banging noise rang against the hood of the car and mixed with the sounds of mine and Nash's horror-filled screams. Three more shots were fired at our windshield, one causing Nash to cry out in a terror-struck shriek. I fought the urge to look back to her when something caught my eye. Running along side us was a navy blue truck.

I never thought I would be glad to see Rick Judgar. But I will confess to you that the moment I saw his menacing grin in the window of that navy blue truck, my spirits felt slightly lifted. Was it the fact that he fired at the helicopter, causing it to spiral out of control and land onto the police cars trailing us? Was is the fact that he left us unharmed? He killed off our predators because he didn't want us to die by their will. He wanted us to die by his.

I pulled the car over to the dusty side road and leapt out. "C'mon lets go." It was only then when I walked around to Nash's side that I saw her shoulder was splattered with blood. Breathless, I stared at her. "He shot you?"

"Why didn't he kill us?" was all she said. I took her by the arm and ignored her question, if I had known, things would have been a lot different. Using all her strength, she pushed me away. "Why didn't he kill us!" she screamed at me, tears flowing down her face. I took an immersed breath, turning back to look at her. She looked so alone and confused, despair and ache written on her beautiful face. I wish I could answer her, I wish I hadn't felt so hopeless. But if I had the answer, if I knew why he had let me live, I would surely have gotten my vengeance.

"Lets go." I left her question unanswered and swept her up by her ankles.

"Let me walk, please, I can walk!" she cried out but I didn't let into her plea. She couldn't walk in her condition. We both knew that.


	18. Motel oddity

**Last chapter got one review, I'm grateful for it, I'm just curious, was the last chapter not as good? Just wondering. Anyway, enjoy chapter 18, reviews are appreciated. **

After wondering through the deserted Texas land for what seemed hours, finally, a sign of population was visible in the distance. A motel. An immersed sigh escaped me, gently, I let Nash down onto her feet.

"Thank God," the words seeped out, dancing on her breath. Ignoring the blood stain she had left on my shirt, which happily joined the others from Johnny, Jim and the police officers, I grasped her unharmed shoulder and helped her along.

"Are you alright?"

"It aches." she said blandly. A gut feeling of remorse swept over me. _It should've been me who got shot_, I thought cruelly, _not her_.

"Do you think you can make it to the hotel? Or do you want me to carry you?"

"I'm fine, Ponyboy. Please just leave me alone." she snapped, shrugging my arm off of her and carrying on without me, grasping her blood stained shoulder. She had asked for this. I told her to leave twice but she refused. She had it coming. But somehow, I managed to keep myself clean of spite towards her. Sometimes its impossible to hate someone who's in pain. I suppose I'd be angry too if I was shot in the shoulder. For a girl, she was handling it quite well. But I knew if we didn't get her to a hospital soon, things could turn very awful.

After we had checked out a room, using Nash's wallet, we settled in. Multiple trucks had been parked outside the motel, back to back. The motel acted as a resting place for travelling truck drivers to spend the night. Resting my neck against the headboard, slowly unwinding on the soft mattress, Nash returned from the bathroom where she had attempted to wash her wound. Standing before me at the foot of the bed, she appeared so vulnerable and feeble. Her eyes that had been so harsh before seemed gentle and poignant. Pain can do that to a person.

We sat there in silence, just soaking each other up with our eyes. Finally, I spoke. "Are you ok?"

"Is either of us?" she whimpered, although her tone was not harsh. It was ironic, in a warped way. "Why'd you guys pick him up?" she asked abruptly, peering at me with her ocean eyes. How I wished she hadn't asked. I'd asked myself the very same question only a thousand times throughout this whole experience but I could only come to one reason.

"We wanted to help him…" I sighed with melancholy, "Sodapop was tired, I thought he'd help him stay awake. I guess I never thought that he'd…" my words trailed off, leaving nothing but an assumed ending of the sentence. Steadily, Nash took a seat on the edge of the bed beside me, her dazzling eyes even closer to me now, I could smell her perfume again. As she reached for the phone, I stopped her, clamming my hand down on the receiver.

"What are you doing?"

"I was just going to call-"

"No calls."

"What?"

"We cant call anybody. Not yet."

"But it's only my father,"

"We cant."

"Its my father, Pony!"

"I said we cant!"

Silence.

"But I can explain it…"

"It's not that simple…I've already tried."

She scoffed at that, although she was bearing sadness. "But I'm scared." And finally, I admitted something to myself that I had kept from my mind that I wasn't able to deny any longer.

"Me too." I was scared. There was no telling myself that I wasn't. I realized, with Nash's gentleness, that it was ok to be scared. And it was ok to cry. Once more she persisted.

"Cant I just make one phone call?"

"I told you; it's not that simple." And it wasn't. I hated to restrict her, I really had no power over her. But its true, she couldn't explain it. Sensing she was disappointed with me, she sat on her own side of the bed, clutching her wounded shoulder. Throwing my caution to the wind, I ripped a piece of fabric from the bed sheet and wrapped it around her shoulder. She looked to me, grateful with her short sunrise hair falling in front of her eyes. I gently let my eyes close as I leaned back over to my side of the bed. I'd only rest for a little while, I told myself.

I was jolted away with sound of a truck pulling away from the motel. Nash was beside me, seemingly asleep. A few tries of her name with no reply, I assumed her to be asleep and turned the lamp off beside her. Waking myself with a stroke of my face, I rose from the bed and made my way to the bathroom.

The water running onto my face and over my bare body, left me standing in awe. It had been only a day and it felt like I had gone years without a drop of water. The stream-like shower liberated me from the mental scars I carried, but only temporarily. When I stepped out from the shower, they all returned.

Getting dressed, I didn't even bother with my undershirt, it was dirty and soaked with blood stains from five personnel. I put on my over shirt, which was only slightly dirty, and shrugged on my jacket overtop with my jeans and sneakers on my lower body.

Suddenly, the radio came on abruptly with high volume. Sensing its oddity, I called out for Nash. Four times, my call went unanswered. It was confirmed, something was wrong. Hearing the radio station going abruptly static-y, I yanked the towel bar from the wall and swung the door open, only to find an empty bed and the door to our room, leading to the truck filled parking lot, left open. _Just close the door and carry on without her, you fool_, I thought. But no matter how much I chided myself, nothing could've stopped me from venturing out to find Nash. After all, I knew who had taken her.


	19. So close, yet so far

I rushed out of the motel room and into the truck-filled parking lot, weapon in hand. I wasn't thinking rational, all I knew was if Rick had taken Nash, he'd gone too far. She had nothing to do with him.

I weaved myself through the rows of trucks, determined to find her. I discovered that not only trucks were parked at the motel. It had an overly large parking lot in which bulky and oversized construction units were stationed there as well. As I rounded the corner, flashing police lights caused me to stick to the side of the truck. _They've found me_, I thought as I trembled. Sprinting in the opposite direction, a pair of arms latched onto me restricting me from running. Thinking it to be Rick, I struggled against the arms until I noticed the man holding me was dressed as a police officer and another approached me.

"I'm innocent! I'm innocent!" I cried out, struggling against the officer's grasp.

"Take it easy, kid." the approaching officer was dressed just as the man who constrained me, with the exception of an adjoining 'ten-gallon' hat. He held onto me by my shoulders and the other officer's grip slightly loosened as I ceased my struggle. "Are you Ponyboy Curtis?" the man asked me, his voice filled with southern twang. Confused, I asked;

"Who are you?"

"Caption Esteridge. We spoke on the radio."

"Where is she?" I demanded, starting to struggle in the other man's arms. Caption Esteridge's eyes cast downward and then back at me as if he were indisposed.

"Come with us, we're going to need your help." he commanded, motioning us to follow him as the man that held me, led me with his force. Still slightly tussling to be freed, I didn't want to be held captive. If they needed my help, and weren't about to lead me away, why was I constrained? They should've let me be. But it's a good thing they didn't. Because the sight I saw next caused me to go into a frenzy.

Surrounded by dozens of squealing, flashing police cars and trucks, was Nash, her body tied to a rusted metal pole as she cried out. Too dazed to react, my gaze slowly lifted up to realize a large metal crate hanging over her from a crane. Slowly, my eyes widened and I began to comprehend what was going on.

"What's in the crate?" was all I could ask. My shock drowned out the sound of Nash's screams for help. Still being held onto, Esteridge replied;

"Explosives. We found her like this…"

No.

That's the first and only word that entered my mind when I fully understood. That, and the urge to free her. Abruptly, I lunged into a frantic thrash, trying to break free.

"Do something! Cant you fucking do _**something**_?" I screamed out, tears forming in the corner of my eyes.

"We _CANT_!" Esteridge hollered at me, grasping onto my shoulders, gesturing to a truck parked beside the scene. "That guys got the control board, we go any closer and it wont be pretty. If he lets go of that control, she gets squashed like a bug and we all go up in flames!" he lectured me, his breath wreaking of tobacco. My stomach churned at the thought that I might not be able to help Nash. And that I was the cause of her death. She should've listened to me. She was so stubborn and naive, wanting to help me. If only she knew, anyone who associated themselves with me, sealed their fate. I could've forced her out of the car. I knew something would happen to her if she stayed with me. But she was a companion, someone to help protect me. And I liked Nash. Everything about her made me subconsciously forget about Rick. And now he had her at his mercy.

"Now you get in there,…and you see what you can do…" Esteridge concluded, the other officer loosening his grip and letting me unbound. Me? No, I couldn't.

"I cant."

"He asked for you personally, Ponyboy. Its either you persuade him to change his mind or we all get demolished."

Slowly, I complied, walking over to the truck that sat beside Nash, Rick glared at me through the windshield. That sick bastard, he was happy to see me. But somehow, my anger was contained and replaced with wretchedness. All I could see was Nash secured to that rusted metal pole and her blood-curling screams echoed through my ears.

My whole body trembled as I climbed into the truck, keeping a safe distance from Rick. I wanted to be angry with him, like I had been before. I wanted the urge to kill him. But somehow, all those emotions had been replaced by fear and vulnerability. And yearning. Yearning for it to just all be over.

As I neared closer to Rick, I saw his face was drenched in sweat and held distress. It never appeared to me that this time, he had an audience for his crime. He had been caught, and now he was anxious. But he didn't give me enough time to gawk, he put on his act, a menacing grin.

"What a sweat heart." he hissed with a sinister chuckle. Suddenly, it was our first encounter all over again. Me and him in the back seat of Dally's car in the pounding rain, with Johnny trembling beside me and Soda dazed at the wheel. Rick's menacing words hung in the air.

Being sucked back into reality, Rick slammed a gun down on my seat, I was edged to the side, thus, not even sitting on half of my seat. "The gun is loaded." he informed me with finality. "Go for it. C'mon, kid, don't tell me you're still scared." I _was_ still scared. You'd think that after all this, I'd be used to my life hanging by a string. But I wasn't. I don't think a person could ever get immune to that.

"Tell you what, I'll let you pull the gun on me before I do anything."

"You'll die. And if you don't, they'll catch you. " Something told me, he wasn't dunce enough to pull a trick that could destroy him. He was ruthless killer but he wasn't stupid. And his plea for me to hold a gun on him, it was all somehow part of his plan. It had to be.

He chuckled and seemed to throw all caution to the wind about my remark.

"Yeah,...So what?" His grin was back and his hand had a firm grasp on the control board. I couldn't seem to take my eyes away from it, knowing that one slip of that control could end all of us.

Growing impatient, Rick growled at me as a react to the sound of Nash's scream. "Pick up the gun!" Swiftly, I complied with trembling hands. "Put it in my face." he spat at me. I could feel tears streak down my face as I did so. I rested the nose of the gun against his forehead and placed my forefinger on the trigger. "Now shoot." That's when I realized, he wanted me to kill him. This was the end of the line for him, he wasn't about to surrender. He'd get the electric chair either way. However, it wasn't dying he was afraid of. His life meant nothing to him. It was his pride and his prominence that he treasured. He'd rather be shot by the boy he had been hunting for so long than by the head of authority. Because he knew he died by his own will. Not by theirs.

"Shoot." he commanded once again but I just sat there, trembling, with a gun to his head. Forget the fact that we'd all die if I shot him. It didn't matter. If I was enraged enough, I would've shot him. There was a time that I swore, I'd kill him. But now that I was faced with the opportunity, I couldn't bring myself to do it. Truth was truth. I wasn't a killer.

"She'll die. We'll all die." I whispered, my body shaking. Slowly, Rick looked up at me, turmoil set in his soft eyes. He was upset with me. But also shocked. He yanked the gun from my fingers and shook his head.

"My God. You useless piece of shit." he cursed at me, glancing down at his hand that held the control.

"No…" my voice quivered, seeing what he was about to do. Slowly lifting his hand from the control, his door swung open, Esteridge and three others at his side.

"Grab the control, Curtis!" Esteridge ordered with a roar as the others dragged Rick out of the truck by the arms. With one swift motion, I clutched onto the control stick, feeling and hearing the crate jolt and the metal screech. Nash let out a ringing scream. I squeezed my eyes shut and pushed the control down as hard as I could, not letting the crane let go of the crate. Nothing but voices filled my head. Voices of those who had died by Rick' s hand. I didn't know them, nor did I witness their murder. But somehow all their shrieks of horror filled my ears.

When I opened my eyes, Esteridge was looking down at me as I was hunched over the control board. I must've been dazed for quite some time. "It's ok, son. You can let go now."

"I-Is she dead?"

"No, she's very much alive. You saved our lives, son." his words acted as a thank you as he tipped his hat to me. "We disabled the control panel so now its only manual from the crane." he informed me. Nash. That's all I could think.

"Where is she?"

"We cut her ropes, she's out there."

I flew from the truck, pushing my way through the sea of policemen and flashing lights. "Nash?" I called out. "Nash!" Finally, I spotted her head of golden hair off in the distance near the road, her back facing me. "Nash!" I shouted to her as I made my way over to her. I stopped abruptly with the sight that met me.

Nash was standing, face towards the night wind.

With a gun pointed at her own head.

"Don't," I urged her softly, yet inside I was panicked. How could she turn on me like this? How could she just give it all up?

"I have to," her words came out sobbed as her armed hand trembled, the nose of the gun buried in her blonde hair.

"No, you don't! Nash, you escaped death! You can move on, you don't have to do this."

"Yes, I do. My life, it's all messed up now. I cant live with myself. That man,… he's evil."

"You think I don't know that?"

"Please, just let me…" she moaned, her voice drenched in sorrow. But how could I just stand by and watch her kill herself? She survived Rick twice. She didn't have to give up now. Although, she'd have to live with the memory. And the 'what if' factor. But couldn't she just move on? Did she have to take such drastic measures? But I suppose, it wasn't a matter of her not being able to live with herself afterward. It was a matter of wanting to live with herself. Which she did not want to do. Nash could be smart, but yet, also foolish. This would be the most foolish decision she'd ever make.

I wanted to plead with her, tell her she could still go on. But as she placed her finger on the trigger, I knew she didn't want to live anymore.

"Don't do it!"

"I'm sorry, Pony. I'm so sorry…"

"No!" I screamed, lunging for her. But I was too late.

With a gun fire, blood was shed and her lifeless body collapsed onto the pavement. She was so close. Yet so very far.


	20. The nameless man

**I'd like to thank you all for all the reviews I got on chapter 19! I was so happy :D And I'm sorry for killing Nash, you guys, but it had to be done . Anyway, enjoy chapter 20!**

When I opened my eyes, there was a blinding light being flashed into them, causing my vision to go black. I jolted away, stunned.

"Easy, Pony. It's alright." a familiar voice soothed, rubbing my shoulders. As soon as the black cleared from my eyes, I flashed them wide open. I'd know that voice anywhere.

"Soda!" I cried, flying out of my chair and clutching onto him, tears forming in the corner of my eyes. I was feeling overwhelmed, excited and relieved all at the same time. I could feel Soda's chest heaving and his nose sniffling.

"Ponyboy, I cant tell you how happy I am! Oh, Pony, I thought he'd killed you!" Soda sobbed into my shoulder. We pulled out of the embrace for a brief moment. I saw that Johnny was not by his side and sudden panic ran through me.

"Johnny?" I asked, my voice close to collapsing into a wail. Soda's eyes darted away from me, looking as if they were hiding something. But he pasted on a toothy smile and carried on.

"Well, uh…He's in the hospital…Head injury, they say…But he's alive! Really, he's doing good for his condition." his voice faded, the excitement uneven. I remembered the splatter of blood on the side of Johnny's face and shivered. But at least he was alive. Soda cleared his throat and I could tell what was next.

"So, uh, where's Jim?" he asked, although I could tell he was unsure. Did he know on some level of Jim's death. Exhaling heavily, I tried to avoid Soda's striking bronze eyes when I told him.

"Jim's dead." I said flat out. Seeming only slightly shaken, Soda nodded with anguish. My body seized up, hoping he wouldn't ask about Nash but nothing came. It was then when I noticed Captain Esteridge leaning against the wall near the door. This must've been the police station. Had I passed out when Nash killed herself? That was the last thing I had remembered. The sound of her gun and the pound of her lifeless body hitting the pavement.

"Captain," I greeted him, Soda turned to look at him.

"You did a good thing, son. And I cant tell you how sorry I am about the girl. We know there's nothing you could've done. Real shame though, wasting a life like that." he muttered his condolences, taking of his 'ten-gallon' hat in respect. Empathy is supposed to make you feel better but all I felt was a retch feeling in my gut. And an aching in my heart. Surely Soda would ask now. But yet again, nothing came. Reaching forward, Esteridge held onto my arm.

"We have something we want you to take a look at, son. Was this other young man involved with you and this crime?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, then you both should look at this," he concluded and led us to a room with a large glass window. As soon as I saw it, I knew what this was. I halted right at the door way, turning around, I knew I couldn't do it. They wanted me to sit and watch Rick being interrogated. Why did they think I wanted to see him anymore than I had to? Grabbing onto me, Esteridge hauled me back into the room.

"You have to! We have no idea who this guy is!" he urged, struggling to get me to the window.

"Just do it, Pony. This'll all be over soon." Soda soothed, pulling me by my arm and I ceased my struggle. I made a deal with myself. I'd only have to see Rick one more time. And then I'd return back home, life would go back to normal and I'd never have to see that bastard's face ever again.

Peering through the two-way mirror, Rick sat opposite two detectives with his hands in cuffs, despite all the stress and work he'd been through he still managed to be just as handsome as the first time I met him in the rain. His strawberry blond hair was tousled and his lips were pursed. Something about the way he sat there told me this was not his first time.

"So, what's his story?" I asked, Soda looking from beside me. This man had terrorized me to near death, I wanted to know who he was. But Esteridge simply shook his head.

"We don't know. We've checked the records in half the country and couldn't find a single thing on him. So we brought him in here but, the thing is, we don't even know his name." he muttered.

"How do you feel?" the detective asked, offering Rick a supportive grin but also a grin that told him there was no getting out now. Rick simply shrugged, not looking the slightest bit intimidated.

"Tired." he sighed, his eyes cast downward. However, he gave his answer like it to be the only possible thing to say. Like it was understood.

"He cant see us or hear us." Esteridge assured us. I glanced sideways at Soda who was narrowing his eyes as he stared at Rick. He probably hadn't seen him as much as I had. An abrupt thought swept over me. If this was my last time seeing the creep, I wanted to talk to him. Not just to curse at him and tell him that I hated him, but to ask why. Why'd he have to go and fuck up my life?

"What's your name?" the detective asked, glaring right at Rick. But he stayed silent, letting the detective's question hang in the air. "C'mon," he coaxed, standing and getting right in Rick's face. "What's your name?" It was pathetic the way the detective spoke to Rick. He didn't deserve to of been taken so nicely with. It angered me that someone wasn't in there screaming at him and cursing him. Rick continued to remain silent. "Do you have a name?"

"Rick Judgar." his name danced on my breath, it came out like a reflex as I stared at him. Bewildered, Esteridge looked at me with his brows curled.

"What'd you just say?" he asked in shock.

"His name is Rick Judgar." I repeated, seeing my opportunity to talk to him arise. Esteridge led me into the room, seeing I had important information with Soda in tow behind me.

Just as we entered, Rick was asked another question. "Where are you from?" Rick came up with a smug grin and answered;

"Disney Land." He was comical in a sinister way. The way he'd tease his victims and taunted them with his menacing grin. He may of not been funny to them but he seemed to find himself hysterical.

As soon as he noticed my presence, his eyes darted up at me and somehow he seemed pleased to see me. He watched me with his hazel eyes as I stalked towards him until I was right in front of him. For the first time, I knew exactly what I was going to do.

I extended my hand towards him.

Seeming as if expected it, he lifted up his two cuffed hands and wrapped them around mine. Everyone's eyes were on me, waiting to see what I was going to do. I leaned closer to him, my eyes must have been flaming with hatred.

And I spit in his face.

"Alright, that's enough. I knew this was a bad idea," Esteridge muttered as he grabbed me by the shoulders and hauled me out of the room. The whole time he was pulling me, I didn't break eye contact with Rick and he didn't break it with me. That spit meant I hated him. And he knew it but loved it. That was his goal, to get me to hate him. To this day, I never understood why.


	21. It's not over yet

**Hey, thanks again for all the great reviews! As you can see, this story is close to it's ending (don't worry it has a good 3 chapters left, if not more) and I know a lot of people like this story so I have good news for you! There will be a sequel! I'm not sure what the title will be yet, I'll let you know as the time nears but for now, enjoy chapter 21! **

My cigarette was foul. It'd been a long time since I'd had one, well maybe just a day, but I let myself become overtaken by it's smoke and it's burning ashes. Soda stood beside me, smoking as well, as we waited in the parking lot of the police station. No words escaping our lips, just complete and utter silence between us while flashing police car lights scanned the building and police officers talked amongst themselves. It was the next morning as the sun was starting to dawn over the horizon. It had only been one day. It seemed like weeks. But how could so much tragedy strike in just a simple 24 hours? Death sure did have a slow clock. I tapped on the end of my cigarette.

And then I saw him.

Rick was being led out of the police station, four officers surrounding him and Caption Esteridge leading the way with Rick's hands cuffed behind his back. His eyes somehow darted right at me, they were sharp and I knew this was it. It had to be. A bus awaited to take him to his death bed - his electric chair. I heard a stifled laugh come from Soda.

"It's funny. All this time they were going out of their way because they thought we were the criminals. But now that they finally have him, its just ironic. Because it was him all along." he scoffed, taking a drag of his cigarette.

"I'm going to talk to him," I told Soda with a soft voice, setting in motion to walk.

"Huh?"

Just as Rick was taking his first step into the back of the bus, I spoke. "Wait,"

"Look, kid, we have a tight schedule. We don't have time to-"

"Let the kid speak. He saved all of our lives, he deserves anything he wants," Esteridge apprehended the other officer. He did as he was told. I took a step right in front of Rick. I knew now that I had power over him, and it felt good. Although this man had gone out of his way to make my life hell, I felt as if I owed it to him to say a proper goodbye.

"Well, Rick," I started, my gaze hardening with every word. "I guess this is it. It's all over and you're finally going to get what you deserve. And I'd just like to say," I paused letting all the anger I had within me build up until I could finish my sentence with the most hatred I've ever had. "I'd just like to say, that I hope you rot in hell." I spat at him as I turned to leave. A certain psychotic chuckle caused me to whip around and face him. Was he _laughing_ at me? But all he said was;

"You're a stupid boy, Curtis. It's never over." he said softly, and with that he was swallowed by the bus, the doors closing in my face and leaving me there to ponder his last words. I was stupid? What a jackass, he'd see who's the stupid one. He was just trying to scare me, wasn't he? But then I thought back to all the horrors he caused and the lives he took. How he managed to track me down and kill everyone who remotely associated themselves with me. If he was capable of all that he'd done, there was no doubt that he'd be able to escape his death.

"C'mon boys, you want a ride home?" Esteridge's southern voice broke through my thoughts. I looked to him, grateful.

"I took the bus here and I have a ticket back so I guess I'll see you at home, Pony." Soda told me, giving me a concluding hug. He brushed his lips against my hair and suddenly they were near my ear.

"Don't get yourself killed, alright?" he whispered low in my ear.

"Huh?" I whispered back.

"I know it's not over. I saw it in the way he left. Do what you have to do. Whatever it takes, just do it. But promise me you willreturn home, alright?" his breath was hot against my cheek and his words made me shiver and made my throat start to close up. All I could do was nod. With that, I got into the front seat of Esteridge's police car as Soda waved at us, pulling away.

Twenty minutes went by without a single word in that car. Finally, the silence was broken. "Where you from?" Esteridge asked softly.

"Tulsa, Oklahoma, sir." I answered.

"That other boy back there, was he with you during the time that you were terrorized?" he inquired, the rising sun landing on his face. I suppose he wanted to know all about the crime. Which was just fine with me, in fact, I was ready to talk. No, _dying_ to talk and to have someone believe everything I said. Just like Nash did.

"Yes, sir. That was my brother, Sodapop Curtis. Our friend was with us too but Sodapop and him had to leave to find medical help yesterday afternoon."

"What was your friend's name?"

"Johnny Cade. He's in a hospital back home now. There was also one other person involved…" I added, thinking back to Jim. It had been a while since I let myself think about how I pleaded with him to stay alive and how death swept through the mountains lifting away his soul.

"Hm, and what was his name?"

"Jim Halsey, sir."

"And where might he be?"

"He's dead, sir."

Esteridge grunted, tugging at the collar of his dress shirt. He obviously didn't expect that answer. Another series of minutes past before anything was said again. I wondered what it would be like to say exactly what was on my mind. How I knew Rick would somehow escape. I tested my nerves a couple times as the words rested in my throat, seeing if I was brave enough to tell the Caption that I knew he'd never be able to keep Rick under control.

"You'll never hold him," I finally said out loud. Esteridge let out an exaggerated breath, as if he were about to give me a lecture.

"Alright, son, listen to me. There's something strange going on between the two of you. I don't know what it is, I don't _want_ to know. But he's in our hands now and whatever happens to him,…wont have anything to do with you." I just leaned my head against the palm of my hand, running my hands through my hair. Esteridge was in denial. It was that or he didn't know what Rick was capable of. But I knew I couldn't just go home and lead a normal life and forget about Rick until I knew for sure, that he was dead.


	22. A candy coated end

**This is the last chapter! I'm not sure if I'll do an epilogue or make you wait for the sequel to come out for you to find out what becomes of our heroes ;P **

Esteridge'sgun caught my eye as it screamed my name. I was struck with an idea, a pretty good one too. Plotting out my scandal in my head, Esteridge's voice interrupted my thoughts.

"What in the hell…?" his voice was distant and trailed off as he leaned forward and gazed through the windshield. Scrapping my plan, I looked through the windshield as well. A truck appeared to be charging right towards us…but it was going in reverse. My first thoughts entered my mind slowly but with sureness.

I told him they wouldn't be able to hold him. I told him. But he didn't believe me.

"What in the hell is _that_?" Esteridge finished his sentence, slowing the car down. I didn't have to ponder or even second guess myself, I knew what it was. Not only did I recognize the truck from the police station but I knew Rick wouldn't let them have the last word. This? This was just to prove his point.

"Uh, Caption?"

"Yeah?"

"I think you might want to turn around. Now." There was a discrete urgency in my voice but it caused him to panic.

"It's him, isn't it?"

"I started this with him. Let me finish it."

As the reversed truck continued to near, Esteridge pulled his gun from his belt and handed it to me.

"Good luck, son." He placed his hand on the door handle. He wasn't going to jump, was he? Before I could think anything of it, Esteridge flung from the car, tumbling onto the pavement. I threw myself at the wheel, to be met with the scene of Rick standing in the back of the reversed truck with a machine gun in his arms, a sadistic smile pasted onto his face. My eyes widened as I attempted to swerve around the truck, however, Rick's body was thrown through the windshield, glass shattering. I began to scream, trying to get him off of me. Continuing to holler, I swerved around the now tumbling truck.

I thought he would shoot me for sure, and kill me right there. But he only smirked at my with the nose of his gun pointing right near my head. "Hi, kid." he sneered at me, blood dripping from his face where the glass had sliced him.

Panicked, I slammed on the breaks and he went flying back out the windshield, his body hitting the cement and rolling with force. I put my face in my hands, bent over at the wheel of a ceased car. It's funny, you know. You see, I thought I'd killed him. But in truth, it would take more than him flying out of a car to execute him. Oh, this? This was just the beginning.

It was when I heard a bang that my hands flew away from my face. Glass from the head lights shattered onto the pavement and a seemingly resurrected Rick stood before the truck.

His gun

was pointed

at my face.

He shot multiple times at the police lights on top of the car and at the head lights. I had thrown myself down onto the car floor as I struggled to start the car. The keys would turn, the engine would squeal but the car wouldn't go into drive. Frantically, I used my other hand to scuttle along the car's floor, it was searching for one thing. Esteridge's gun. I must've dropped it in shock when Rick flew through the window, where _was_ it?

More searching, more angered yanks at the keys and stomps at the gas peddle. Still nothing but broken glass shattering down at me and a psychotic man taunting me with my life.

Finally, the car started, my body relaxing with relief.

"Is that all you got, kid? Is that the best you can do?"

Alright, asshole, here we go.

I slammed my foot down onto the gas and charged the car right at him, rage shooting through me. I didn't jerk to a stop, I didn't back down. I'd backed down from him so many times because I wasn't a killer. Well, maybe now he'd turned me into one. The hood of the car collided with his body, sending him flying once again to the side road, a tornado of dust flying up in the wind from the impact of his body.

I peered out from the broken windshield at Rick's now disfigured body. He had to be in pain. But as I watched him heave an agony filled breath, it struck me that it might be his last. There was only so much this invincible man could survive before his heart gave out on him.

Gingerly, I emerged from the car, crunching the broken pieces of glass under my feet. Slowly picking up the machine gun that lay silent on the dusty pavement, I stalked towards him. I brushed the nose of the gun against his forehead. His face was tarnished with dust and dirt, and stained with his blood. Would I shoot him just to assure myself that he was dead? My hands began to tremble and I simply turned away. I could make my peace with the image of a sad, disfigured man, collapsed in the dust with blood smeared across his face. I didn't need to shoot him to make my point.

But then there was a grunt. Rick was alive. He got to his feet, muttering curses under his breath. The bastard, he should've played dead. I was in no condition to be messed with. If he'd let me go without a word, he would've gotten out alive. But that moment, I wasn't afraid of the outcome, I didn't care what would happen, all I knew was that if he got away like this, I'd never live with myself. I wanted him dead.

With one swift motion, I swivelled on my heel and fired the gun.

Four bullets to his chest as his blood splattered from his body as it flew back, into the dust.

There was blood. Stained on the pavement, curled up in the sand, soaked into the fabric of my shirt, however, it didn't matter where the blood was. It only mattered that it was there. Rick's blood.

I had killed him. I felt a release come over me, finally I knew that I was free. It felt so lonely, though. However, it was sweet. Freedom was very sweet. It was over, all over. Turning, I heaved a wad of spit at his deceased body.

Slowly, I made my way back to the car. Leaning against the closed door, I let the wind blow through me, letting my clothes slap against my body. And just like that, the wind carried away all my hatred, all my sorrow, the wind carried it away and made it's way through the mountains that once called my name.

It didn't necessarily have the slightest thing to do with Rick's death but I felt as if me being terrorized was needed. As if I wouldn't be who I was without it. I'm sure there are many Rick Judgars still out in the world. Just waiting for a poor Ponyboy Curtis to come along so he can terrorize him to near death. For the next victim, there is only one thing I can say;

Take a ride on the wild side.


End file.
